The Long Road
by Firithnovwen
Summary: It's Spring Break and Kurt's going on a road trip that is if he can find someone to go with him...Dad's orders...Puck wasn't his first choice by far but life is funny like that. Puckurt
1. Spaghetti and Road Trips

_**Author notes**_

_**Wanted to thank Graces of the Child and Niblett for being betas **_

_**Chapter 1 Spaghetti and Road Trips **_

**Burt Hummel was dead on his feet by the time he got off work; the sudden surplus of customers was stressful but welcome, especially in this economy. Spring break was nearing and folks wanted to ensure that their vehicles were in good condition for travelling so by the time he got home it was already dark.**

Kurt was home – Burt knew immediately because his SUV was in the garage – and Burt smiled when he heard his son singing in the kitchen. He tried his legitimate best with his son, but it seemed that they were oil and water sometimes; he loved Kurt, even if he didn't understand him all of the time. Their awkwardness unfortunately caused them to spend more time apart than together. Kurt usually just cooped himself up in his room doing whatever he did, but he was glad that he wasn't tonight. It was nice to see him after a long day at work.

As he neared the kitchen, he was hit with a delicious aroma and his stomach growled; he had been working so hard he must have skipped lunch. He followed the smell, hopeful that it was for him.

Kurt was dancing in front of the stove and using his stirring spoon as a microphone. He had his headphones on and was apparently unaware that he had an audience. Burt listened as his son hit notes that he wasn't aware that a boy could; he knew Kurt had bragged about hitting high notes but he really wasn't aware of what he was talking about. He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. Kurt sounded like an angel and Burt wished his mother was here to hear it.

In many ways, she still was: Kurt was wearing the pink apron that he had gotten her for Christmas one year; she had always loved to cook and Kurt was always so eager to help; she had even brought him a little blue apron – he cried because it wasn't pink.

"Smells good."

Kurt screamed, throwing his hands in the air. In his frenzy, he dropped his spoon and splattered sauce all over the floor. Burt laughed out loud and shook his head. Kurt was breathing heavily and clenching his heart as his father walked over and picked up the spoon.

"You scared me!"

Burt shrugged, still smiling, and looked past him at the stove "Is this for school or…"

"Oh no," Kurt took off his headphones and hung them around his neck, "This is for us; it'll be ready in five." His smile faded briefly as he saw his open laptop on the table. His father walked past and with a clean spoon, scooped some sauce and tasted it. Kurt used the distraction to slip by and quickly shut the laptop.

Burt turned around and looked at the laptop and then at Kurt; his son was searching his expression to determine if he had seen what was on the screen, and after deciding he was safe he smiled, leaning against the table, "If you want to wait in the living room I'll bring you a plate and a cold one?"

"Are you sure?" He looked at the table, "You are usually pretty insistent that we eat in here."

Kurt brushed back his hair, "It is traditional, but I wanted to show you something on the television. Multitasking," he said with a small laugh and a shrug.

Burt nodded and walked past his son into the living room; he usually ate dinner in there anyway when Kurt was down stairs or out with his friends. As he sat, he thought about what he'd glimpsed on Kurt's lap top. He'd pretended not to have seen but the colors had caught his attention, and it was either men wearing dresses or very ugly women. He loved his son dearly but he hoped that Kurt didn't want to start wearing dresses; he didn't think he was ready for that.

Kurt walked in with a plate of spaghetti and, as promised, a cold beer. He then walked out of the room and returned with plate of his own – and a much smaller portion, which made Burt wonder if Kurt was watching his weight or something – and a bottle of water.

"I found a show that I thought we would equally enjoy," he said took the remote, searching his recorded shows and going past Project Runway and Gossip Girl to Overhauling. Burt sighed: he was just glad that Kurt wanted to spend time with him, even if it was watching one of "his" shows.

"It's about taking old cars and making them fabulous; basically a make-over for cars," said he looked for approval in his father.

"You're into this?" He asked. It was definitely a show he would enjoy, but he didn't think Kurt would.

"Oh, yes. Makeovers are like crack to me."

Burt nodded slowly and turned back to the television, eating his supper and watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye. His son had finished about half of what was on his plate before sitting it down and continuing to watch the show.

After finishing, Burt turned towards his son, "Okay," he laughed, "What do you want?"

Kurt looked shocked and then realized his dad wasn't falling for it, "Okay. Spring Break."

"No, I'm too busy at the shop," he interrupted.

"I'm 16. I can go on my own?" Kurt suggested.

"Go where?"

"Key West, Florida."

His father learned forward, "No, Kurt. You're too young to go off all by yourself."

"Wait." Kurt stuck his hand out as a brilliant idea came to him, "Are you saying if I get someone to go with me, I can go?"

Burt felt cornered, "No, I'm not saying that. I don't even know what you're going to be doing. Is this a beach?"

Kurt nodded. "It's a very popular tourist attraction: southern most point of the United States, fabulous spring break destination."

Burt shook his head, wondering what his mother would have done, "I'm not paying for it."

"I have enough money saved for my hotel and the trip," Kurt leaned forward eagerly, hoping that his dad was about to give – just in case, he was giving him the "puppy dog" eyes.

"And you can't go alone – no exceptions. You're small… Something might happen to you."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I have a taser."

"That's my terms, and you have to call every day… No, twice a day."

Kurt jumped up and hugged his father, "Thank you!"

He ran down the stairs to his room, texting as he went. He had to plan so much for his trip; he couldn't believe his dad said yes.

He went into his wardrobe, picking out his most complimentary outfits, when he received a text that sank his heart.

He quickly called Mercedes, talking before she could manage a greeting, "What do you mean you can't go?"

"I'm sorry, Kurt. My dad won cruise tickets."

Kurt was silent for a moment, "You're breaking my heart."

Mercedes thought for a moment, "Listen, you need to start thinking of solutions instead of complaining." She was used to giving her boy some hard love.

"Like what?" he asked and wiped away a tear, knowing that his dad wouldn't let him go alone.

Mercedes sighed heavily, "Why don't you ask someone else?"

Kurt thought for a moment; although Mercedes was his first choice, she did have a point. "Okay… But I'm going to still need your help with planning. Spring Break is only a week away."

"You got it."

They said their goodbyes before Kurt fell on top of his bed and looked at his ceiling., wondering who he was going to ask and how.


	2. Mondays

**Author Notes; Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas**

**Chapter 2 Mondays**

Kurt hated Mondays. Mondays were ruthless.

He always brought about three changes of clothes – never his good clothes. It was always the same routine; he always ended up in a dumpster in the morning and slushied in afternoon.

Kurt had tried all sorts of tactics to avoid the dreaded "dumpster dunk," but it didn't matter if he showed up early or late, they would find him just the same. On went the slushy facials as well, so Kurt learned to accept things; it was better to just get it over and done with and change before anyone saw him covered in strawberry.

Kurt was picking bits of trash out of his hair when he finally made it to his locker. Mercedes was waiting for him looking particularly fashion-forward in her red leather jacket. She gave a disapproving shake of her head and placed her hands on her hips as customary when she was about to do her preaching, "You know, when I'm rich and famous, I'm going to come back here and buy this school," she gave a curt shake of her head, "And I'm going to burn it to the ground and enjoy it."

Kurt laughed, "Why wait?"

He checked his appearance in his personal mirror, reaching into his pocket and producing a list to hand to Mercedes as he continued to freshen up.

Finn was listed first, with the dot above the "i" replaced with a heart. The rest of the names were listed in order of "most likely" to "least." He had planned to go down the list and asked each individual to go on vacation with him, and the first to say yes would be his travel buddy.

"Rachel isn't on the list," Mercedes observed.

"If she was, you'd come back from your cruise to the headline, 'Local Hero drives SUV off cliff, killing self and Hoity-Toity drama queen in an act of bravery.'"

He crossed his arms, giving Rachel a fake smile as she walked by. "Looking good!" he beamed, and waited until she was out of hearing range before turning back to Mercedes. She was suppressing her laugh badly.

"Okay, no Rachel…" She kept laughing and looked at the list, "Tina is going to her grandmother's – she was complaining to Artie about it yesterday in Glee." Mercedes took a pen out of her pockets and crossed her name off the list.

Kurt huffed loudly but refused to let another misfortune ruin his day. Everything was going to work out, he just knew it. He held out his arm and Mercedes gleefully looped hers inside. They had English together, along with Artie, who was third down on his list and hopefully able to go. While Kurt was slightly concerned about the wheelchair, he was confident they could work something out if he wanted to go.

Once they were in English class, Kurt maneuvered himself until he was sitting next to Artie

"So how about it, just us guys?" He explained everything, making it sound as fabulous and exciting as he imagined it would be.

Artie let him finish, and then frowned, "So you can lift 135 pounds?"

Kurt blinked. "I'm fashionable, why would I need to be strong?"

"Well then how can we take a trip with just us guys when you can't lift me out of the car or help me into bed?"

Kurt frowned. "Shit." Now fazed, he straightened his Anna Osmushkina vest, looking towards Mercedes and shaking his head. Mercedes shrugged and took out the list and marked off Artie's name.

English seemed to drag forever… But he was in luck: both Finn and Matt were in his next class.

Kurt took his list from Mercedes since they had to part ways, but he hoped that he wouldn't need it after he talked to Finn.

It would be the perfect opportunity to bond. It would be a lie if he hadn't been daydreaming all day about the possibilities he would have when no one else was around to make Finn self conscious and unsure of his actions…

Kurt arrived just before the bell and looked around eagerly for Finn; his face dropped slightly when he saw that he wasn't there.

"Where's Finn?" He whispered to Matt in front of him, really hoping that he was just tardy and not absent.

Matt shrugged, but Kurt didn't losesteam this time. He had all week to find a travel companion, and besides, Matt was right here and he was a nice guy.

"Are you busy this Spring Break?" he whispered. The teacher had yet to start his lecture and by judging by his red eyes and relaxed mannerisms, Kurt doubted he would be starting any time soon.

"Oh, yeah! Mike and I are going to a concert in Fort Wayne. Ludacris featuring Nicki Minaj," he grinned, making the gesture of a well-endowed woman. Kurt nodded, pretending to care, but all it meant was that two more people were off his list.

Kurt talked about music with Matt for the rest of the period; it kept his mind off things, mainly and especially his ever shrinking list. Kurt walked up to his locker, feeling quite down, and placed his forehead on the cool metal. Mercedes joined him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

She didn't need to ask to know the reason, but Kurt handed her back the list.

"I talked to Brittany she said she and Santana are going to New York for Spring Break. Apparently they are meeting some guys up there and…"

Kurt held up his hand to silence her, "Spare me the details." He watched as Mercedes crossed them off the list.

"Maybe you should ask Rachel. I doubt she has any plans, you know her. And you guys can work on numbers in the car."

"'Cedes, I really like my car, I don't want to introduce it – and myself – to the edge of a cliff."

"Okay no Rachel… Why don't you ask someone from the Cheerios?"

Kurt shook his head. He honestly didn't know any of them that well, and for the most part he really couldn't stand them; he might be just desperate enough to ask later in the day.

Kurt turned towards Mercedes, "Maybe I should just cancel and we can go next year. I'll save up more money and that town won't know what hit it."

"Sounds good, but don't give up yet." She flashed him a reassuring smile and he sighed, starting to taste defeat.

"I'll just see you in Glee."

Kurt decided that he needed to freshen up; Mercedes nodded and bid him goodbye as Kurt headed for the bathroom. He was about to enter the girl's bathroom when someone cleared their throat behind him.

"I believe you have the wrong bathroom, Mr. Hummel," Principal Figgins deadpanned.

Kurt smiled weakly and turned towards the Principal "Sir, as an honorary girl–"

"Mr. Hummel you are in fact a boy. Honorary or not, you will not use the women's bathroom, do you understand me?"

"Uh, sure, sir." Kurt whipped his head away and with his nose upwards he walked into the boy's bathroom. Principle Figgins continued down the hall looking for other rule breakers (but mainly avoiding Sue, which Kurt did understand).

Kurt gasped when he entered the boys' room. The slight bit of air had betrayed his presence, as Dave Karofsky and his posse turned towards him. They were drinking from plastic bottles, and although it said Gatorade on the label, he doubted it was Frost Glacier Freeze.

Bullies are like territorial wild animals, he had concluded; if you run they will chase you and Kurt knew from experience. One: as fast as he was, they were faster; and two: it always made it worse.

"Hello, homo," Karofsky slurred.

Kurt swallowed hard, and, forgetting his animal theories, bolted for the door. He honestly thought that, since they were drunk, he would have a fair shot at escaping. Of course, he didn't foresee a fourth member of the group entering right as he lunged for the door. The Neanderthal slammed into his chest and both of them fell backwards. Kurt looked upwards to see Azimio laughing, reaching down and hurling him back towards Karofsky.

"I've already been in the dumpster and had a slush poured down my pants today; don't you think this is overkill?" Kurt said nervously, slowly backing away as if he was today's cornered animal.

Karofsky looked at his friends, "Maybe the queer is right; we have been rough on you today," He was blatantly mocking compassion.

The others snickered as Karofsky grabbed him by his most expensive vest, "However, you did catch us drinking. Do I need you to remind you what happens if you'll tell?"

"I won't tell!"

"Damn straight you won't," he grunted as someone else grabbed Kurt's feet.

Azimio ran to the second stall, pulling out his phone, "Wait up. Let me film this shit, I'm gonna put it on YouTube."

Kurt knew what was coming next as they brought him into the stall: the worst of the worst; the blue dunk of death; the swirly. Kurt had considering suing the company that made the blue chemical that sits in the toilets and had ruined more outfits than he cares to admit. He held his breath as they shoved him in, but they held there until he couldn't hold it any longer before jerking him up, down, and up in a sick rhythm.

"Lift his face," Azimio said as he held his phone over the stall. Karofsky nodded and grabbed Kurt by the hair and pulled his head backwards; he cried out from the sudden pull. They all laughed as Azimio zoomed in.

"I think he's crying!" Azimio shouted, to more laughter.

Karofsky pushed Kurt down with more force than he thought possible, and he fell forward, unable to get his hands up to protect himself. He hit the side of the toilet and fell to the ground, blood instantly begun to gush from his busted lip.

Azimio was now standing in front of the stall looking at Karofsky with surprise. "I think that's enough," he said nervously, but didn't stop filming him.

Kurt had never cried in front of them –they had caused a lot tears but he was proud that he never let them see it – but he'd also never been this hurt by them before.

The chemicals were stinging his eyes and he wishes he could blame it for the tears rolling down his cheek, but honestly, it was because of the building stress and the failure of finding a traveling partner and no doubt the screaming pain in his face.

"Look, the faggot is crying," one of them said and they all began to laugh even harder.

"Laugh now, you incestuous Neanderthals," Kurt spat, "I'll be gone in two years and you'll never get out of this hick town. You'll just end up marrying your first cousins and having crossed-eyed babies."

Karofsky laughed and began to mock him and Kurt did the unthinkable: he kicked hard.

He hit Karofsky hard in the leg, right below the groin (damn his height). Azimio continued to film as Karofsky fell to the ground, holding his wounded leg and shouting like a gorilla, "Grab the faggot!"

One of his buddies grabbed Kurt's ankle, pulling him out of the stall. Kurt eyes widened in fear as Karofsky stood up, "You like kicking don't you!"

He walked towards him with a limp and for the first time, Kurt was genuinely scared. He swirled around, trying to get up, but a solid kick to his stomach sent him back to the ground, hard. Kurt gasped as the air was torn out of his lungs.

He kicked him again and Kurt balled up, trying to protect himself.

"Stop it, Dave, you're going to seriously hurt him," one said, but did nothing to stop him.

"Just fuck it!" Dave reached down and grabbed Kurt by the collar, jerking him to his feet.

Kurt was afraid and full of adrenaline; he balled up his fist and hit Karofsky as hard as he could in the nose. His dad taught him how to fight in the 8th grade, when the bullying had gotten bad. "Hit them in the nose, son," he'd said, showing him how to make a proper fist. "It doesn't matter how big they are. If you hit them in the nose, they'll feel it… You'll get one more shot, so make it count, and go for the goods."

Karofsky dropped him with a thud and reared back, holding his nose. Blood streamed down his upper lip, and Kurt felt like he was going to be sick for a second. He tried punching again, but it was sloppy and only grazed him. Kurt had counted on that hit – he didn't think he could knock him out but perhaps he could daze him, confuse his friends, long enough that he could escape.

Karofsky was mad; his face had turned red and he charged Kurt, slamming him into the wall. he hit his head hard against the bathroom wall, making him see stars. Karofsky grabbed his shirt collar and punched him, knocking him out easily; Kurt slumped to the ground in a heap.

Karofsky, coming out of his rage-induced stupor, looked down at Kurt and then back at his friends. "Shit, we'd better get the fuck out of here!" Karofsky gestured for his friends to take off and they scattered, fearing the repercussions.

He was confused when he woke up.

He was wet and shivering, but he crawled to the sink and pulled himself up. His stomach screamed out in discomfort at the movement, and it took several minutes before he could force himself to look into the mirror.

The chemicals in the toilet had strained his skin enough for a triple routine of moisturizer, his hair was matted, and his eye was swollen shut and already bruising. His lip was busted but, after a quick check, none of his teeth were missing, although blood had ran down his chin and onto his neck and chest.

Kurt looked down at his watch; it had only been out for about ten minutes. It felt like ten hours.

"I'm going to take a piss, bro, I'll see you there."

Kurt gasped, turning towards the door. He looked around desperately as the feeling of shame hit him full force. He tried to hobble into the stall, locking himself in, holding his breath, and trying to ignore the pain.

It was, of course, the one person he didn't want to see. How convenient.

Puck entered the bathroom and stopped when he saw the blue water on the floor. "Nice," said he laughed, knowing that a swirly had recently happened, but stopped when he saw blood. Puck enjoyed throwing kids in the dumpster, and if they really deserved it a dunk in the blue pool, but he never physically harmed them; and he thought that none of his other friends had either.

Dude, it just didn't matter how big of a loser they were, he didn't beat them up because he was so much stronger and it just wasn't right.

He approached the stall and bent down in time to catch the sight of designer boots before Kurt could lift them.

"Hummel?" Kurt didn't answer, hoping that he would just leave; Puck stepped into the second stall and stood on the toilet, peering over the barrier separating the two stalls. "Shit," he muttered."Open the damn door!" he ordered, jumping down and jostlingthe lock.

Kurt opened the door.. Puck opened the door and forcefully grabbed Kurt's chin, which felt very similar to the position he had just been in.

"What the fuck happened?"

"They shoved me in the toilet… I slipped on the water afterwards." It wasn't a complete lie, he thought.

Puck eyes narrowed, but he didn't call him out on it. Instead, he reached into the stall and tried to fish Kurt out, who at that point had slipped so that part of his arms were in the toilet water.

Kurt gasped in shock and slapped Puck hard across his face, "Don't touch me!"

Puck grabbed his wrists to prevent any more assaults, even though a part of his mind was aware that this looked really bad, "Stop it, you fucking idiot. I'm going to take you home."

Kurt slowed his breathing, whispering, "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you're too pathetic to ignore, especially if you're crying on the ground like that," Puck reached in and picked Kurt up easily and headed for the parking lot.

The parking lot was abandoned; there wasn't a person in sight. "Thank God," Kurt whispered. As Puck hurried to his car, Kurt's phone began to buzz in his pocket. Kurt imagined it was Mercedes inquiring where he was, since they were both quite late for Glee.

"Okay, just… stand here or something," Puck ordered, and set him down carefully beside his car. Kurt clung to the car, looking around and hoping that nobody would see them in this position.

Puck ruffled through his trunk and reappeared with the towels that had strangely gone missing from the school locker rooms. He laid them down in his backseat and stepped aside, allowing Kurt to crawl in, blood and all.

Kurt wasn't offended; he was covered in blood and blue chemicals and he knew from experience that it was near impossible to get that out of fabrics.

Puck jumped in the front seat and turned the key. He then turned to Kurt.

"Okay stupid question," he said, "Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Kurt shook his head no and Puck nodded, "Thought so." By now, his hands were gripping the wheel hard.

Kurt's phone begun to ring; Mercedes had given up texting and was now trying to call her friend.

"Give me the phone," Puck said, and held out his hand. Kurt handed him the phone without thought; although Puck had been a jerk to him since they had known one another, he didn't have much of a choice right now and didn't want to do anything to piss off anyone.

"I'm with Kurt," he answered, "I'm taking him home, that's why!"

Kurt would smile if he didn't think it would split his lip further: Mercedes was giving him the 3rd degree, and hopefully doing it well.

"He got a swirly, fell and busted his lip and whatever other stuff." There was a pause, and then he snapped at her, "No, I didn't do it!"

"Fine! Have a nice fucking day too!" Puck handed Kurt the phone and threw his hands up in frustration, mumbling something about women.

"Hello?" Kurt answered.

"He's not kidnapping you, is he?"

Kurt tried to laugh, but he felt his lip stinging. "No, I'm just covered in toilet water and I didn't want anyone to see me. I asked Puck to give me a ride."

"Why not me?" She asked, slightly hurt.

"Puck was here, nothing personal," he paused, "Hey, I need to give him directions. I'll text you later."

"Okay, you better. Bye!"

"I don't need directions," Puck grunted, and took off.

Kurt looked up, a little surprised, but then he remembered that he was likely in on the whole nailing his lawn furniture to his roof or at least throwing the pee balloons.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence and awkwardness, they pulled up to his driveway.

Puck jumped out before him, "Do you need me to carry you?"

Kurt shook his head; he didn't want any of his neighbors to have any more to gossip about, although coming home alone with a boy will likely give them enough fuel for the fire for another month. He slowly climbed out, trying not to whimper as he did. "You can go. I can manage."

"I'm going to stick around." He didn't give an explanation and Kurt didn't ask for one.

"How long until your dad gets home?" It was the only thing that Puck could think of, it seemed.

"He's been working late, so not for a while," Kurt began to head towards his room, desperate for a nice long bath.

Kurt ignored Puck as he slowly walked down the stairs and headed straight to his bathroom; Puck merely stood at the entrance of his bedroom, taking everything in and then looked in Kurt's direction. His blue-stained skin and clothes stood out against the white walls and furniture.

Kurt shut the door and leaned back against it in an attempt to put some space between him and his former tormentor.

He didn't think it was possible to feel worse than he looked, but he did. It was a lot more than the physical pain, which was just a dull ache now–with the occasional sharp pain if he moved his abdomen the wrong way.

No, it was this broken, disgusted feeling: that the world was unfair; that life in general was unfair. He missed his false confidence, but he wasn't even sure he could fake anymore.

Kurt walked over to the tub and started the water, and then sat in front of it, unable to move.

_**He trembled when the door opened and Puck's shadow loomed over him. Part of him knew he shouldn't be afraid but his body was betraying him after what he had just gone through. Puck knelt beside him and reached over and turned off the water: Kurt hadn't realized the tub was full. **_

"_**I'm going to help you," Puck said, with a conviction and certainty in his voice that Kurt had never heard. He didn't fight it as Puck begun to unbutton his shirt.**_

"_**If you don't mind, I'm going to leave your underwear on… Because dude I don't think I'm nice enough to stand here while you're naked."**_

_**Kurt laughed–it was short, but it was something and it encouraged Puck, whose lips turned upwards for a moment. As he continued to undress him, Puck remembered how he used to not understand Finn helping Artie out of the Port-a-Potty or holding Kurt's designer clothes. It always seemed weak and unmanly and made him a wuss.**_

_**But now, he thinks, he can understand as he finally pulls back Kurt's shirt.**_

"_**Damn," he says when he catches sight of Kurt's chest. Several swollen bruises covered his ribs and stomach they were deep purple and reds.**_

"_**Does it hurt when you breathe?" Puck asked. He hadn't been aware that Kurt took some hard shots to his abdomen; otherwise, he would have insisted that they went to the hospital.**_

"_**No… They're not broken just sore." Kurt mumbled, not meeting Puck's eyes. Puck nodded, although he was sure Kurt just didn't want to go because he was embarrassed or ashamed. He reached down to Kurt pants buckle when Kurt grabbed his hand forcefully.**_

"_**It's okay. I was going to help you wash this stuff off."**_

"_**Why?" Kurt asked. One word, but he needed to know.**_

_**Kurt was looking at Puck as if he was trying to look inside of him. Looking for dishonesty or waywardness, he was breathing heavily, clearly upset; the redness of his sclera made his blue eyes more vibrant. Puck could easily get lost in them.**_

"_**My… My mom had to help me wash my hair for a month when I broke my ribs. I couldn't lift my arms." **_

_**Although it wasn't the answer to his question, Kurt dropped it and looked down at his pants to unbutton them himself. He left his briefs on and stepped into the tub without touching Puck.**_

_**He didn't say anything, only folding his arms over his chest as Puck kneeled beside the tub and began to scrub the chemicals off his skin. He offered Kurt a wash cloth for his face, and Kurt took it, feeling like a dog or a little child that had to washed, but with more awkwardness. **_

_**It took about twenty minutes before he was finally cleaned, and then Puck helped him up and handed him a towel. **_

"_**I'm going to find you some clothes." **_

_**As he walked out, Kurt began to dry himself off. He was confused as to why Puck was helping him: it was one thing to drive him home, entirely different to help him in this manner. It felt out of character for him, and Kurt was actually very curious to why he was being so nice... No, that was an understatement. Puck was being a saint, and he wanted to know why.**_

_**Kurt walked into his bedroom where Puck had laid down some clothes, "Biggest one you got… I think you shop two sizes too small." He gestured to his shirt, "Bigger shirts are easy to get in and out of."**_

_**Kurt nodded, "I'll borrow some from my dad." **_

_**He touched the shirt and looked up at Puck, "Why are you helping me?"**_

"_**You expected me just to leave you in there?" He said, a bit surprised.**_

"_**Yes."**_

_**That was too quick, too definite. It hadn't taken Kurt three seconds to decide that Puck would've left him there; Puck's head shot up and then he looked away guilty, "You were… just there."**_

"_**You've slammed me into lockers before."**_

"_**I would never do this!" **_

_**Kurt breath hitched, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be judging your reasons when you're helping me."**_

_**Puck shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'll just go," he cleared his throat, "I shouldn't be here."**_

"_**No… I'm sorry." Kurt said, he didn't know why, but he didn't want Puck to go–for the first time ever.**_

_**Puck nodded and headed for the couch, "Get dressed… You're making me uncomfortable."**_

_**Kurt knew that Puck wasn't the only one being made uncomfortable, but he was glad to have someone here, someone that seemed to care whether he was alright or not.**_

_**Puck hturned on the TV, found Sports Center and didn't even look up when Kurt sat next to him. "So… Karofsky?"**_

"_**Karofsky. And that other black guy and the one you saw with the camera phone."**_

"_**You should tell the police, or the principal."**_

_**Kurt shook his head "It will only get worse if I do… The first time you guys threw me in the dumpster and I reported it… The month after was the single worst month of my life." **_

"_**Sorry about that."**_

"_**I'll take a hundred dumpster dives compared to this."**_

_**Puck looked over at Kurt; he didn't say anything, knowing nothing he could say could make up for what he done.**_

"_**Do you have make up?" Kurt looked at him as if he'd asked if Kurt needed to breathe, "Never mind, where do you keep it?" He stood up and headed to Kurt's vanity mirror and begun to go through his drawers.**_

"_**Bottom left!" Kurt cried, afraid of him finding something embarrassing. **_

_**Puck smirked and stopped going through the drawer, which had an unusually large amount of pictures of Finn; he would have to remember that later.**_

"_**Come here," Puck ordered. Kurt obeyed his command wordlessly and sat in the chair in front of his mirror.**_

_**Puck grabbed his arm. "I'm going to show you how to cover that thing when the swelling goes down."**_

"_**How do you know this?" Kurt asked and watched as Puck stared at the seven different types of concealer that Kurt owned.**_

"_**Let's just say that my mom has bad taste in men."**_

_**Kurt smiled softly; Puck was just full of surprises. "Thank you, Noah."**_

"_**Don't mention," he said and looked up at Kurt, "Serious. Don't ever, ever mention it." **_


	3. Desperation

_**Author notes Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 3 Desperation**_

"I'm quitting Glee."

Mr. Schuester stared at Puck as if the words coming out of his mouth were in Russian.

"Wait, Noah. You're what?"

Puck sighed. It had started this morning; actually, it had really been going on for a while. Ever since he joined Glee, he felt that he really wanted to be a good guy all of a sudden, and he knew that he couldn't get through life in Lima on being nice and caring about people.

Helping Kurt was the straw that broke the camel's back.

This morning, when he threw the freshmen into the dumpster, it wasn't satisfying at all, and for the whole day he had been concerned about Kurt.

Kurt Hummel, of all people.

Just because he hadn't come to school today.

"Is this about Kurt?" Mr. Schuester interrupted his train of thought.

Puck looked away, "They told you?"

Mr. Schuester nodded. "But I swore them to secrecy… So by the end of the week, everyone will know." _Fucking fantastic._

Puck ran his hand through his nonexistent hair, "Mr. Schue, I know who I am, this isn't it."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

"I'm not talented like Rachel, or even like Finn. Singing isn't going to get me out of this town."

"Then what will, Noah?"

"Nothing, Mr. Schue! I'm not getting out of this one horse town; I'll be a Lima loser forever!"

"You don't have to be." Here came another "follow your dreams" speech. _Hadn't Puck learned that lesson two or three weeks ago? _

"But I'm okay with that now! But these other people, that make fun of Glee, they're not going to get out either. I'm going to have to work with these other Lima losers, live with them, raise my family with them. They need to respect me, not these people in Glee that might have a chance at being great."

Mr. Schue sighed, "We're almost to Nationals, Noah. Things will be different."

Puck shook his head, "Isn't this why you got replacements?"

"They're not as talented as you. And Quinn is going to be too big to perform at Nationals, which means introducing two new members that don't have the chemistry together… Tell you what, Noah. How about you wait until after Spring Break, talk to Quinn and do some soul searching, and _then _decide if you are going to allow these people to decide your life for you. You owe me–you owe _us_–that much."

"Fine," Puck looked away, "But I'm already sure. I want to get a job to help with Quinn."

"I thought she was on government help."

"She is, but that doesn't pay for everything."

Mr. Schuester sighed and patted him on the shoulder, "I know how you feel. Do what you have to do, Noah, but think what kind of message that you'll be sending your daughter if you quit something you love."

_That was a lie_, Puck tried to tell himself. He was doing it for someone he loved: his unborn baby girl. _Wasn't that more important than himself?_

Mr. Schuester smiled as the other Glee members began to arrive. "We'll talk later," he faced the club, whose members were filing in one by one.

"I know you've all already checked out for Spring Break so… No assignment this week." Everyone cheered, "We will still be practicing our dance moves because some of us haven't got them down. Now I don't want to name names: Finn." Everyone snickered.

"How's Kurt doing?" Tina leaned over and whispered to Puck.

The whispered carried and everyone turned towards Puck curiously. "I don't know." He crossed his arms'; he usually liked attention but not for the wrong reasons.

"What happened?" Artie asked and pushed his glasses up.

Puck sighed. "He was in a fight, I found him afterwards. I took him home and left. End of story."

"Why did you help him?" Quinn asked, looking at him curiously with a mixture of different emotions that Puck tried to identify. He knew that Quinn liked Kurt well enough, but even she was suspicious of his motives.

"Because I'm a nice guy, alright!" He said, hoping to get on her good side.

"No, you're not," Finn said icily from his seat and Puck glared in his direction; the tension was still thick after all this time.

"Alright, enough chatter. Let's all stand up and take it from the top," Mr. Schuester interrupted, knowing when things were getting a little too intense.

As Mr. Schuester was helping Finn for the fourth time, everyone else was left to their own devices, and Puck was sitting alone. He liked to sit apart from the group just to show that he was here but he wasn't like them. His phone buzzed and reached into his pocket.

It was a text from an unknown number but the area code was local.

_**Puck, this is Kurt. Can you come over today?**_

Puck stared at the message for several seconds, his mouth and eyes wide.

_**Why?**_

He hoped that Kurt hadn't got the wrong idea with his moment of insanity. They weren't friends. Period.

_**Please, it won't take long.**_

Puck leaned his head back and grumbled to himself, "Damnit." _What could he do now?_

_**Yeah after Glee but I can't stay**_

He didn't have any plans; he just wanted an excuse to leave once he got there.

_**Thanks, Noah.**_He wrote back quickly and then shoved his phone back into his pocket. Glee was making him soft and he needed to get the hell out of it.__

_**Don't you dare tell anyone. **_

Kurt ordered a pizza before Puck got there, knowing that Puck was more agreeable when he was fed, and set the pizza out on the kitchen table; his dad wouldn't be home for a while and he knew that Puck would likely be uncomfortable in his room. He didn't like thinking about Puck like that; he was eternally thankful what he done for him but he just didn't need this in his life.

He hadn't realized how nervous he was until he heard the door bell ring, getting up to answer and straightening his shirt. He took Puck's advice and wore a loose-fitting shirt that actually belonged to his dad. Puck began to ring the door bell repeatedly, trying to make a tune out of it. Kurt giggled and shook his head at Puck's child like behavior.

He opened the door, offering a small smile in greeting, "Hello, Noah."

Puck nodded and looked down at Kurt, "The swelling is down a lot."

"Frozen peas, and I kept my head elevated. I had to Google that last night," he told him, "There's pizza on the kitchen table."

Puck looked down the hallway, and Kurt knew he could smell it easily. "Good, I'm starved." He slid past Kurt, "You got any beer?"

Kurt laughed, "Yes, but my dad would kill you. Slowly." He walked up to the fridge, "We have soda."

"Whatever is fine," Puck responded with his mouth full.

Kurt nodded and grabbed a cup, pouring some soda for Puck before he sat down next to him. "I noticed you don't like ice," He said, handing Puck his cup.

Puck thought it was really weird that Kurt knew that, but shrugged and took the drink, "So why am I here, other than to feed me?"

Kurt sighed, "Well, I wanted to thank you."

"Don't bother. I should be keeping a tighter leash on these guys."

"You're not their leader, Puck."

"But they used to follow me and listen to me. You know I started that slushy facial in the 9th grade? And I probably threw the first person in the dumpster." Puck knew it wasn't something to be proud of, but he couldn't help pointing it out.

"Well thank you for that," A pause; Puck though that Kurt looked like he was doing some deep thinking, "But have you ever beaten anyone up?"

"No." _Never._

"I guess it's sort of a gateway drug: you start with something harmless and fun–although it wasn't much fun for me–and then it turns to something bad." He looked down at his hands. Now Puck was really feeling guilty. Would that happen to him if he went back?

"If I hadn't joined Glee, it wouldn't have happened."

"Yes, it would have. They didn't beat me because a few football players joined Glee. They beat me up because they were drunk and ignorant. They were so damn afraid of something different they had to try to make me afraid of who I was. They were trying to beat me back into the closest."

"I'm not like them," Puck said quickly and looked up at Kurt, "But I'm not like you either–not like the others in Glee club."

Kurt smiled, reaching across the table to place his hand on top of Puck's; he didn't notice it right away. "Don't be ashamed of being… _extraordinary_. Uniqueness is one of the rarest gifts, Noah."

He shrugged, "So is that all you wanted?" He pulled back his hand, dropping it by his side. _Wait, had he just called him Noah? No, only his ma, Figgins, and Rachel–for some reason–could call him that._

"No." Kurt tried to ignore the sudden lack of touch.

_Flashback_

Burt ended his day feeling good; the shop's profits were good and he even had managed to get out of there early. He didn't expect his son home, but he was happy to see him, especially since Kurt was usually working hard on his dancing or high Cs.

"_Kurt, you home?"_

"_Yeah," a small voice came from the living room._

_Burt sighed: the boy had more ups and downs than an elevator. He walked into the dark living room; Kurt was lying on the couch with a bag of frozen peas over his left eye._

_Burt flicked on the light and dropped his gaze, "What the hell happened!" He ran across the room in two steps and knelt beside his son, taking the frozen vegetables so he could get a better look._

"_Don't overreact."_

"_Like hell, I won't! Did those bullies at school did this to you? That's it. I'm calling the cops! These cowards are going down for this!"_

"_No!" Kurt protested, jumping up as fast as he could without giving away the extent of his injuries._

"_I was just in a fight, dad. It was a 'boys will be boys' kind of thing… You should have seen the other guys." Kurt ended with an awkward chuckle; even his dad had to have known he was lying._

_Burt turned to his son. _

"_You got your ass kicked."_

_Kurt nodded, "But that is no reason to call the cops, dad." He reached out and took the phone from his dad's hand, "Please, things are hard enough without me being responsible for our best baseball players being put into jail."_

"_Well, they should have thought about that before they touched you!"_

"_Look at my hands, dad." He brought them up and they showed the tell-tale signs of self-defense. "If they get into trouble, they will spin it around on me too, dad, for fighting back. I can't risk getting suspended when Nationals are so close."_

"_Wait, so you hit one?"_

_Kurt grinned, "Just like you showed me." _

_Burt nodded, "Good. No one pushes a Hummel and gets away unharmed." He grabbed the bag of peas and placed it back on his face, "Keep it elevated when you sleep, it will help the swelling."__Kurt nodded, and his dad continued, "Stay home tomorrow too." Kurt couldn't help but agree. _

"_I don't think I want you going on that trip now."_

"_No, dad. You promised!"_

_Burt sighed and turned towards his son, wishing like hell his wife was here, "You were just in a fight; I don't want you going down there with Mercedes. You obviously can't take care of yourself."_

"_I'm not going with Mercedes, she's busy." _

"_Then who are you going with?"_

_Kurt felt his trip slowly slipping away and as his mind was searching for answer, his mouth acted. "Um… Puck!"_

"_Puck?" His father repeated slowly._

"_Noah Puckerman. He plays football, and he's in Glee too."_

_Burt frowned. "He isn't your boyfriend… Is he?"_

_Kurt laughed, "Oh no, he's straight. Just a friend. He helped me home after the fight."_

_Burt nodded, "Alright but I have to meet him first."_

_Kurt's mouth parted slowly as his dad walked into the kitchen; he must have been hit harder than he thought because he was obviously __**not **__thinking clearly–_

"I was hoping I could talk you into something… Well, you see–my dad is letting me to drive to Key West–that's in Florida–but he won't let me go alone and he was pressuring me yesterday about who I was taking andIsaidIwastakingyou."

"Well," Puck said after a minute of silence, his tone expressing nothing, "You'd better tell him different."

Kurt's face fell. "All expenses paid, you don't have to hang out with me once we get there."

Puck shook his head. He knew Kurt was trying to bargain with him, and he needed to make sure it didn't work, "You got the wrong idea, Hummel. Just because of yesterday, it doesn't mean we're friends. "

"I know that, but I need to get out of Ohio. I need to go somewhere where I'm accepted for who I am and–" _Okay, now the kid was rambling._

"Sorry," He wasn't. "As much as I would love to spend hours upon hours in the car with you, I need to get a job so I can help Quinn."

Puck stood up, deciding it was time to leave before Kurt started to cry.

"Wait!" Kurt called out, truly desperate, "I'll pay you."

Puck stopped and turned towards him, "How much?"

"A hundred?"

Puck laughed, "Make it three hundred."

"Three hundred!"

"Hey, Mr. Showtunes, you're not easy to be around. Think of it as hazard pay in case someone finds out."

"I can do two hundred."

Puck thought about it for a second. For a week, that was a lot of money… And it was guaranteed, where he might not be able to find a job in that amount of time, "Make it two-fifty and including expenses, then we got a deal."

Kurt sighed and lowered his head and shook it in defeat. "Okay."

"So is Key West a party town?"

Kurt nodded, "If you can stay until my dad gets here, I'll tell you all about it."

"Alright," He said, walking back and sitting back down, "But let's get this straight: this is business; we're not friends; and you're not following me around once we get there."

"Absolutely!"

Puck ate as Kurt pulled out a large map of the eastern United States. It was obvious that he had been planning this for a while, as he had drawn down the route they were to take with a red marker and highlighted places he wanted to stop along the way.

"We can make a few adjustments here and there so we stop places you like," Kurt watched Puck, who was examining the map.

"I haven't been on vacation since I was eight and we went to my Uncle's funeral in New Jersey."

"That's a vacation?"

"Anytime you get out of Lima, Ohio, it's a vacation."

Kurt had to agree; this whole trip was about getting out, even with the sobering fact that he had to return.

Somehow, by the time Burt came home, the boys were laughing so loudly they didn't hear him come in. Puck had seemed to loosen up a bit and Kurt was actually enjoying his company; Kurt found that Puck actually had a very witty sense of humor and was a bit interesting, especially when he wasn't making fun of his sexuality, or throwing him into a dumpster, or throwing a slushy at him.

"Hey, Kurt. How you holding up?"

Kurt was startled and almost screamed; Puck looked up, still somewhat laughing, "Hello, Mr. H." He stood up and shook Burt's hand.

"Going over your trip?"

Kurt nodded and smiled, laughing nervously and almost begging him to play along.

"Hey, Mr. H. I was thinking perhaps we could go ahead and just take off tomorrow?"

Kurt eyes widened; _they hadn't discussed that!_

Burt frowned, "Kurt already missed today…"

"I know, but he hasn't missed a day all year." He leaned in, "Just between you and me, he's a little embarrassed about the bruising."

Burt looked down at his son: although the swelling in his eye had gone down a little, a large bruise had formed beneath it and his mouth was bruised beneath his lip as well. Even the best makeup and his skilled hands couldn't cover everything.

"You are going to take care of my boy, right? Not letting anything like this happen to him again?"

"I'll do my best." Puck answered. He wasn't afraid of Hummel Senior, especially since he wouldn't actually be watching Kurt at any point in the trip that wasn't necessary.

"Okay. You guys can leave tomorrow."

Kurt looked at Puck, surprised, and mouthed a "thank you." Burt talked to Puck for another few minutes before leaving, saying something about a show being on and left.

"Do you have a picture?" Puck asked.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"A picture–like a mug shot from the shoulders up?"

"I have a few casting pictures I did myself… Why?"

"I want to put in my wallet," he said sarcastically, "I'm making fake IDs. You won't be able to get into_ any _type of good club without one. It's not a glamour shot or anything gay like that?"

"Every picture I take it glamorous," Kurt shot back, but stood up with a wince, "I think I have something downstairs… Is this anyhow going to embarrass me?"

Puck laughed and shook his head, so Kurt went to his room to find the picture that Puck had requested.

"Thanks," he said, and snatched it out of his hand, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Will your mom be okay with you leaving?"

Puck laughed, "She won't know I'm gone." He opened the front door to signal his exit, "Get some rest, Hummel. You're driving."


	4. Lost

_**Author Notes; Special Thanks to Graces of Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 4; Lost**_

Kurt woke early; in fact, he'd hardly slept at all. He kept having nightmares that he forgot all his luggage and Puck wouldn't drive back for them and he was forced to shop at _Wal-Mart._

So when six o'clock rolled around, Kurt was so tired he almost skipped his morning routine for a little extra sleep – _almost_! But that night of no sleep only meant that he needed some serious work.

"You awake?" Burt called down.

"Unfortunately!"

"You got company"

Kurt blinked in confusion. Puck wasn't due for a couple of hours and he especially didn't want him seeing with cream on his face (_that_ sounded really wrong). "Puck's here already?"

"No, Puck isn't here," Mercedes appeared, walking down the stairs.

Kurt stood up, surprised to see her. "Mercedes… What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, "I called your dad to find out what's going on, and he agreed to let me come over before school."

Kurt smiled weakly. "Nice of you to see me off," he laughed awkwardly, and then she really started.

"I just wanted to know _why_ I had to hear it from-Rachel-who-heard-it-from-Artie-who-heard-Brittany-talking-about-it-with-Santana-who-heard-it-from-Quinn-who-got-it-out-of-Puck-that-you-were-beaten-up?" She said in one breath. "Why am I the lowest on the gossip grape vine when it's come to my BFF?"

Kurt was speechless (not the first time; it does happen on rare occasions).

"Have nothing to say for yourself?" she said, and walked towards him. "I thought we were friends."

"We are!"

She held up her hand to stop him, "Wait until I'm finished." She pointed to the bed, gesturing for him to sit. Kurt didn't argue; he knew he deserved the lashing she was about to give him.

"It's bad enough you didn't tell me about the fight but just sending me a text telling me that you're leaving today without even a good bye – that hurt! And with Puck!" Her voice was getting higher, hysterical.

Kurt let out a raggedy breath and tried to avoid looking at her. "I'm sorry," he said weakly, and he truly was.

Mercedes sat down next to him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was now sweet and concerned.

Kurt kept looking away. "I was ashamed. I did everything wrong and made the situation way worse." he said, preferring to the incident as well as the aftermath.

"Well… Start from the beginning," she said, touching his hand affectionately.

Kurt wasn't ready to talk about it, it was too raw, but he didn't know how he couldn't without upsetting her.

He shifted uncomfortably, slipped his hand out of hers, and began to tell her in detail what had happened. He was reminded of how he hated seeing pity in her eyes; Kurt knew that she was just trying to be a good friend, but he just wished she wouldn't make a big deal about it.

Puck arrived early.

He'd had a difficult night and his morning wasn't any better. He got tired of Quinn bitching at him because her ankles were fat (like her _cankles_ was his fault), so he finished packing and hugged his sister good bye. He'd told her to look after things; she liked the idea of being in charge.

He picked up a pack of Red Bull at the convenient store (he'd need it) and was chugging his second when he arrived at Kurt's house. Kurt's father was standing on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee and he looked up when he heard Puck's brakes squeal.

"Kurt could look at those brakes for you," Burt suggested and took a long sip of his coffee.

Puck threw his empty Red Bull can on to the passenger side floorboard. "It gives the car personality," he said, humoring the old man.

"See how much personality it has when they stop working when you're on the highway," Burt pointed out, shaking his head.

Puck shrugged; he didn't really think that far ahead. He walked up onto the porch, noticing Mercedes' car, which he only recognized because they had made out in the back and she had slapped him for touching her boobs.

"What's Sha Nay Nay doing here?"

Burt looked up from his coffee. "Mercedes?" He raised an eyebrow and sighed, "I don't know, she just called and told me she was coming and not to let Kurt leave beforehand."

Puck didn't say anything. He knew that Mercedes was upset yesterday when everyone was whispering what had happened; he could tell she was offended that she didn't know any more than anyone else, and perhaps knew less.

She was close to Kurt – closer than anyone else – and it was killing her that Kurt hadn't confided in her. Kurt might be a rectal wrangler but he was still somewhat of a dude (barely); he was embarrassed about the whole thing, and the last thing he needed was for this shit to get around.

"Can't blame her for being upset," Burt said and sighed, "The boy's been withdrawing a lot lately. I usually don't know what's going on either."

Puck shoved his hands into his pockets; he didn't really have anything to add to the conversation. He didn't know Kurt well enough to know if that was normal and didn't feel that it was his place to comment about it. And he didn't want to feel bad for all the crap he's pulled over the years, as if realizing that it actually did have an effect on him.

"I try to understand him," Burt said, venting his own sadness. It just made Puck feel awkward.

"I want to, but he keeps things bottled up inside."

"Dude, that's just being a teenager," Puck finally said, hoping that it would be enough to make Kurt's dad stop talking to him.

Burt smiled weakly and finished his coffee. "I guess so."

The door suddenly opened, and both Puck and Burt looked towards Mercedes walking out. She had obviously been crying; she turned towards the two men and pointed a finger at Puck.

"I need to talk to you, Puckerman."

He slowly got up and followed Mercedes towards her car, knowing that he didn't have a choice. He tilted his head, raising his right eyebrow and giving her the "sexy" look; he knew that drove girls wild. She turned towards him sharply, not at all affected by his gaze.

"If anything happens to him Puck, I'm holding you personally accountable."

"He's in a fragile state right now, and don't need you bringing him down. If anything happens there is no where you could run or hide that I won't find you and I will personally see that you won't be fathering any more children." Puck _was _scared of her, but he didn't show it.

"Are you his mama now?"

Mercedes glared at him, "Mr. Hummel, do you have any pruning shears?"

"Fine!" Puck said, stepping in front of her and blocking her view of Kurt's dad. "I'll take care of the little corn pusher!"

"No name calling, either," she said and turned sharply away from him, slapping him with her ponytail. When Puck turned around, Burt just looked confused.

Puck stepped back, dumbfounded. He used to be a stud; no woman had been able to resist his gaze. Now he's pathetic: the woman carrying his baby hates him, won't let him even touch her boobs; he's such a loser from being in Glee he can't even get laid (on a five month dry spell and counting); and he's going on vacation with a guy that wears higher heels than his mom.

Kurt stepped out; his hair was pinned back with some type of white paste on his face. "A little warning next time, dad," he turned slowly when he heard someone snickering.

"Is that baby butt paste on your face, Hummel?"

Kurt froze in embarrassment, "God, dad!" He slammed the door and ran for his room. Burt, still sitting on the porch, couldn't help but chuckle at his son's embarrassment.

"I'm going to start carrying his bags out… I suggest you go ahead and put yours in while there while there's still room."

Puck sighed, but went to fetch his two bags.

Kurt was surprised when Puck took his keys, elucidating that he was driving, and mumbled something about Red Bull. Meanwhile, he was too busy being smothered into his father's chest to hear it completely, and he had to literally pull himself free and bolt for the passenger door to avoid reattachment.

He suggested that they leave before his dad changed his mind. As Puck muttered an agreement, Kurt waved goodbye to his father, and they drove off. Kurt sat as close to the edge of his seat as his seatbelt would allow, unable to mask his excitement.

"Goooooodbye, Lima!" He sang, watching the "Leaving Lima" sign go past.

Kurt chuckled when Puck flipped the sign off and sped up; Kurt imagined that he was also more than ready to have Lima, Ohio in his rear view mirror. It was a small consolation to Kurt that, despite everything, Puck hated this town just as much as he did and felt just as trapped.

Kurt reached into his Raffaello handbag and pulled out his map. When Puck had left yesterday, Kurt had set to work finding a few attractions that his traveling companion may enjoy, although everything he thought Puck may like, _he_ certainly would not. So since he was not only paying expenses but paying Puck for his "wonderful" company, Kurt decided that he didn't have to worry so much about it.

"You know this thing has a GPS," Puck pointed out as he glanced at Kurt's map.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "This is an adventure," he replied and folded his map gently, "You're going to follow this road to I-75 S and we'll stay on that road for about 114 miles. Can you remember that?"

"Uh huh."

As they travelled down the road, Puck drummed on the steering wheel, singing softly along to _Free Bird_. Kurt wasn't thrilled when Puck announced that the driver controlled the radio, and even less so when he scrolled through his iPod.

"Do you have anything that is from this decade?"

"I got _Drive-By Truckers_."

"Never going to change... _Women without Whiskey_? I don't think I'll like these."

"When you drive, you can pick the music."

"So until then my ears have to bleed?"

"You got headphones."

"It's a road trip, Puck. We're not supposed to put headphones on and ignore the other person."

"Well I've been trying my best to!"

Kurt huffed and turned away from Puck, determined to stare at the window at nothingness for the rest of the car ride… After a few miles Kurt yawned; looking out the window did that to him. Okay, he was bored.

"You look like shit, Hummel," Puck said, breaking the silence with his usual attitude.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I look better on my worst day than you ever could_ dream_ of looking."

"It must be your worst day times ten."

Kurt turned back to Puck, "Are you trying to get a rise out of me!"

Puck shrugged casually, not taking his eyes off the road. "Or make you cry, sure."

Kurt shook his head in disbelief; Puck was so immature and he was purposely trying to annoy him just like a kid seeking attention. But Kurt wasn't going to give it to him.

"I might start if I have to listen to this much longer." Kurt figured that if he didn't play along then he would be subjected to Puck's more mischievous side, so it was probably best to entertain him or it would be a long trip.

After going back and forth for a while, Kurt yawned and announced that he was tired, grabbing his travel pillow from the back. Puck rolled his eyes when he saw that it said "Princess" on it. Of course.

"My sister has the same pillow."

He saw Kurt smirk and roll his eyes. "She has good taste then," he said, making no excuse as he laid it against the window. Puck chuckled and begun to sing along with one of his favorite bands: _The Outlaws_.

_Sometimes I feel like I'm getting kinda of low._

_Thoughts that I'm thinkin' are the reason I know._

_I try to remember without talkin' to myself._

_Things I said, or maybe things I felt about you. _

He sang softly and glanced at Kurt. His eyes were closed and his lips ever so slightly were curved upwards in a tiny smile.; Puck wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't looking for it.

_Sittin' in a corner of a crowded bar room_

_People all around me and I still feel alone_

_Just when I know I'm gonna break down and cry_

_Someone plays a tune that dried the tear from my eye_

"You have a nice voice," Kurt said sleepily, his smile growing a bit as he was drifting out of consciousness. Puck then began to sing out of tune, which caused Kurt to giggle a bit. He smiled and then continued to sing regularly even after Kurt was asleep.

"Wake up, Hummel," Puck said, punching Kurt in the arm lightly as if he was a bro. Kurt was started, jumping up and hitting his head on the window, and then fell back, placing his hand on his throbbing temple.

"What the hell, Noah!" He pulled down the vanity mirror, making sure that he didn't have another bruise to add to his impressive collection. After satisfied that there was no lasting damage, he turned towards his aggressor.

Puck chuckled, stepped out of the car, and began to stretch. Kurt's eyes were drawn to his stomach as his shirt slightly lifted as he stretched his arms over his head. He didn't allow his eyes to linger longer than they should, because he knew that Puck couldn't see him from his position. Although he wasn't attracted to Puck's personality by any stretch of the imagination, god damn it there's no denying that he is _very _attractive.

"How long was I out?" he asked, and popped his sore neck. He bent over and checked his hair in the side view mirror.

"Not even two hours," Puck replied. "Piss stop time."

Kurt nodded; he had gathered as much since they were in a rest stop's parking lot. "I'm going to the ladies room."

"Really?" Puck asked, causing Kurt to stop and looked at his travel partner.

"I use the women's bathroom at school," he replied with a raised eyebrow, not understanding Puck's reaction.

"Can you at least pretend to be normal when in public?"

Kurt frowned; he didn't know why, but he expected more from Puck, although obviously he had given him too much credit.

After using the bathroom and obsessively washing his hands (public restrooms turned him OCD), he begun to reapply his makeup. He didn't wear much, just a little concealer, mascara, and of course his favorite cherry lip gloss. The women that were in the restroom stopped when they saw him, making sure they were in fact in the women's room before quietly going about their business, deciding it was just better not to talk.

"Why is there a boy in the girl's room?" a small girl asked. She wouldn't be older than five and held tightly onto her mother.

Her mother looked at Kurt, giving him a frustrated look; she obviously hadn't wanted to explain the complexity of the situation to her daughter today.

"He wants to be a girl," his mother replied. Kurt froze, looking at them through the mirror as the little girl gawked at him.

"But he's not a girl!"

Kurt had had enough; he stuffed his make up back into his bag and left the restroom in a huff.

He walked out and saw Puck talking to a girl. Not wanting to be a cock block, Kurt leaned against the wall outside the restrooms, watching the two of them interacting.

Puck leaned forward, his hands tucked into his pocket, and whispered something into her ear. Everything about her body position and mannerisms meant whatever Puck was saying was working. Kurt didn't want to wait here all day but knew it would be hell if he kept Puck from getting laid.

"How far until we reach Louisville?" He heard a woman ask her husband.

"About ten miles," he replied.

Kurt hadn't meant to be eavesdropping, but it had caught his attention. "Excuse me," he said, turning towards them and catching them before they went into their respective restrooms.

"Did you say Louisville?"

"Yeah, about ten miles out."

"Thank you," Kurt said politely, and turned towards Puck.

Puck was about five minutes from landing himself a blow job inside her car, when he heard a high-pitched squawk that sounded like Rachel on her period. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Kurt walking towards him, his face bright red.

Puck exhaled, knowing that this was going to be embarrassing; something had obviously had his panties in a knot. He smiled weakly at the girl, trying to mutter an apology, but Kurt had arrived and was tapping his foot as he waited for Puck to turn towards him.

Puck nonchalantly rested his arm on the hood of Kurt's SUV and turned towards Kurt, purposefully taking his time.

"You. Are. An. Idiot!" Kurt cursed.

Puck didn't look surprised by the allegation; it wasn't the first time someone accused him of such. "What did I do?" He said innocently.

"Why the hell are we in Louisville!" Kurt screamed, not at all caring that they were in a very public setting.

"We're not. It's about ten miles or so up the road."

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why the fuck are we _near _Louisville!"

Puck was surprised by the language, but his attention was focused on the girl that was now walking away. God damn that little pole smoker; he'd just killed his chance of getting laid.

"What are you talking about?"

"You have driven us two hours out of our way!"

Puck eyes widened. "Uh dude… No… I didn't."

"I told you to follow I75 towards Chattanooga… _Not_ 64W towards Louisville!"

"Well, it's your fucking fault!" Puck replied; he was not going to let this fairy make him look bad.

Kurt raised his hands in the air like he was praising God. "How is this my fault, Noah?"

"If you put it in the fucking GPS, then I would have followed the voice!" He yelled back, getting into Kurt's face, trying to dominate the space, but took a step back when Kurt eyes widened in obvious fear. Damn it, he'd forgotten what just happened to the kid.

"Shit!" he said when Kurt fell back, tripping over his own feet. Puck reached down and pulled him up. "Sorry. I screwed up."

However, he couldn't resist adding Kurt's favorite phrase: "Road trips are supposed to be unpredictable, though, right?"

"You are an asshole!" Kurt stormed off towards the lobby area of the rest stop.

Noticing several people watching them, Puck grumbled and raised his voice, "What the hell are you looking at?"


	5. Sexting

_**Author Notes; Special Thanks to Graces of Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 5 Sexting**_

"You're nothing but an asshole!" Kurt said, giving his best hurt face before turning on his heels. He ran away and kept running, not giving Puck the chance to do anything.

He could hear Puck snap at the gawking onlookers without looking back; he burst full steam into the visitor information center that was next to the restrooms.

Kurt whimpered and sat on the nearest bench, his head folded into his arms and knees. He had worn traveling clothes so he wouldn't be concerned with wrinkles, but as he sat there he started trying, in vain, to straighten them; just anything to keep himself from breaking down and sobbing.

He should have known that Puck was going to ruin things! In a way he did know but they had been getting along pretty good and for the most part he admitted he could tolerate – maybe even enjoy – Puck's company.

But he just had a very tight schedule, and with the two hour delay here, and the two hour drive back, his schedule was ruined; he wouldn't be surprised if Puck had done it on purpose, and he wondered if it was illegal just to leave him here, and, and…

Kurt knew he was being irrational, but he was upset and had every right to overreact and throw a diva fit, god damn it!

Right now he didn't want to be alone, but instead he gained a second wind; he wanted to tell Puck to his face how upset he was. Although it would give Puck the chance to give him a piece of his mind (or his fist), but it was a chance he would have to take!

He stood up and for the last time, tried to straighten out his jeans (if he was to confront Noah, he had to look his best) and then turned to leave when something caught his eyes.

Kurt grabbed it fervently and traced his finger over the brochure as tears began to fall across his face. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, hugged the brochure as close to his body as he could, and finally walked proudly into the parking lot.

Puck was leaning against the car with his arms folded across his chest; he had a nasty scowl etched on his face, and looked like he _really_ wanted to throw someone in the dumpster.

Unfazed, Kurt held his head high as he made his way to the car, brochure still tightly in place.

"Get into the car," Kurt ordered stoically, and headed for the passenger side. Puck shrugged and opened the door; the lack of attitude from Kurt had shocked Puck out of his own bad mood, although Kurt thought that this could lead to Puck going ballistic once they started driving.

"I'm sorry." Kurt whispered when Puck shut the door. He couldn't look up.

Puck did a double take. "Huh?" What vocabulary skills.

"I'm sorry for overreacting."Puck shrugged, "I'm used to it."

"My mom died when I was eight."

Puck looked away uncomfortably.

"My dad didn't know what to do… Especially with me. My mom and I were so close and well, he was hurting so bad. He loved her so much, he still does. He packed our bags and we went on a road trip. We didn't have a destination, he said he just wanted to get to know me, to have his son for real, and I think because he didn't want to go back to our house."

Kurt handed the brochure to Puck.

"Cave City Dinosaur Park," he read. "Home of real-life dinosaur playhouses."

"We ended up there… He must have taken my wide eyes as excitement. I was afraid, but he bought me about half the gift shop. I didn't have the heart to tell him I didn't like dinosaurs, but afterwards when we got home, whenever he was looking sad, I would ask him to play Dinosaurs with me. I got closer to him, and I started to love dinosaurs."

"Yeah, I love them too! I mean… I used to," he muttered, masking his excitement.

Kurt smiled sweetly for the first time in the trip, looking over at Puck. "You're right. This is supposed to be an adventure and we should go where we wanna go."

"So… Are we going here?"

Kurt nodded "It's not far and we can take 64 down to Key West."

"Awesome," Puck replied. "Let's rock and roll." He cranked up the radio, taking off.

Despite their fight, Puck was in a good mood and going by the fact that Kurt was allowing him to continue driving, he was certain that Kurt's prissiness had softened as well.

After a half hour in the car, Puck pulled out his buzzing phone and grinned: Santana. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he began to text in return. He was pretty damn good at texting while driving, and was about to ask what she was wearing when Kurt grabbed his phone. He tried in vain to reclaim it but had to quickly adjust his driving before hitting an 18 wheeler.

"What the hell, Hummel! You almost got me killed!"

Kurt read the message and glared at Puck with condescending eyes, "Did you get lost because you were _sexting_?"

"No." That came out a little too fast to sound like he wasn't making it up.

"You can kill yourself on your own time; you won't be risking my baby!"

"Her sexting is too hot to ignore! Oh whatever, I'll pull over and you drive."

"No," Kurt said firmly, and then glared down at the phone again. "Do you seriously get off on this? It's really uninspiring," he said, reading the previous texts with a bored face.

"Come on dude!" Puck said and tried to grab the phone without crashing anything. "She'll get mad at me if I don't answer!"

Kurt eyebrow rose, and he glanced at Puck.

"I'll do it."

Puck didn't think he'd laughed so hard in his life. "She'll know it's you when you ask her to put on a strap on!"

"I'll have you _know_, I have an impressive collection of romantic novels on my digital book, and ninety percent are heterosexual. I think I can handle the mechanics better than you could!"

"Well sexting is a little different than romantic girly trash you read."

"I sext Brittany all the time. Really."

Puck looked at his playful grin, unable to determine if he was kidding or not. Eventually, deciding he was serious, he laughed and waved him off. "What the hell, go at… bad credit score my ass, let's see how she likes this one," he finished with a mischievous grin.

Kurt flashed him a sadistic grin and began to text away.

"I hope she's not sitting on her good sheets, because once I'm done with her they're gonna be ruined."Okay, _now_Puck knew he was laughing more than he ever had. "You're a perv, Hummel!" he observed with surprise and a bit of delight.

"I _am_ a teenage boy!" Kurt replied, which caused Puck to snort and roll his eyes.

"Wanna get some McDonalds or something?" Kurt's reaction was a mix of amused, disgusted, and sinister.

"You can eat it if you want thunder thighs, but fast food isn't an opinion. I happen to be watching my figure."

"You could use some fattening up, dude. Maybe then you'll get some curves instead of those parallel things you call hips." Puck teased, knowing – somehow – that Kurt's figure was always a sore subject.

Kurt cheeks turned pink. "No fast food!" He then giggled when he received a text from Santana. Puck leaned over trying to read it but Kurt moved into a position where he couldn't see the screen. _God damn that queer._

"Eating out at a restaurant will get expensive," Puck pointed out.

Kurt sighed and looked up. "What do you have in mind then?"

Puck shrugged, "Why not a diner or something?"

"Whatever." Kurt smiled as he continued to sext Santana.

After driving for about twenty miles, he left the highway and pulled into a small town.

"Why do all small towns look alike?" he muttered as they pulled into a small diner. Kurt stepped out of the passage side and shrugged.

"Oooh, that's nasty," Kurt said with a laugh as his phone kept buzzing.

"What is it!" Puck asked, trying to lean over the hood of the car as he got out.

"She sent a picture!"

Puck eyes widened. "Give me back the phone, Hummel! NOW!"

Kurt held it to his chest. "I think I'll erase it, need to protect the girl's innocence after all." _What innocence? _Puck thought for a bit of a second, and then snapped back.

"The hell you will!" Hetried jumping over the hood, lunging at Kurt, who cried in mock shock and took off running behind the car, laughing and screaming as Puck continued to chase him.

People in the diner had noticed the commotion and shook their heads as they watched the two make circles around the SUV, Puck surprisingly getting winded (since when was the queer so athletic?) after a few laps.

Puck eventually just slid across the hood of the car, cutting Kurt off and getting him into a head lock in one swift motion. "Alright, give me the phone or the hair gets it!" He made a fist, threatening him with a noogie. The hair was the ultimate weakness–that he knew from experience.

"Alright! Alright!" Kurt cried and handed him the phone. Puck took it, feeling particularly proud of himself as Kurt straightened himself up and started checking himself out in the reflection of his window.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, this is so nasty!" Puck said with a grin and licked his lips, before ruffling Kurt's hair for good measure. Kurt cried in frustration and slapped Puck's hand away.

As Puck walked in, he wasn't surprised to see Kurt and his purse making their way towards the ladies' room, throwing a dismissive "I'll be back once I attempt to fix what you've destroyed!" over his shoulder.

A minute later, a woman that looked to be in her early thirties walked up and flashed a toothy grin at Puck. "What can I get you?" she asked sweetly. Puck grinned at the blonde, she was doable.

"How about we start with some menus," he teased, throwing in a smirk for good measure.

"Oh!" She said making a startled face. "I forgot!" She ran behind the bar to grab two menus, and Puck smiled; his favorite, a ditzy blonde. Puck smiled and thanked her.

"Do you know what you want to drink?"

"A beer would be great."

"Check for ID, Lindsay!" An old woman called from behind the waitress. Puck looked past her at the woman: what, did she think she owned the place?

"No problem, babe," Puck pulled out his wallet, handing the waitress his fake ID.

"Okay," she said with a smile. Damn, those smiles were sexy. "Do you know what your boyfriend wants?"

Puck looked shocked. "Um… He's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that…"

Puck held out his hand in a merciful gesture. "It's okay; I'm part of a Jewish church program. It's called 'Adopt a Homo.'"

"Really?" Now she just looked confused. He laughed and shook his head.

"Oh, yeah. We take them around and try to turn them straight." He knew that she believed his ridiculous story; Puck was a great bull-shitter, he could make people believe anything if he put on his best 'Noah Face'.

"I'm just kidding you. I just keep him around for the _great_ blow jobs."

The waitress' eyes got real big. "Oh wow…"

"Can you go refill the napkins, Lindsay?" The waitress turned to her boss and nodded, leaving Puck alone with the old woman.

"I was just joking with her." Puck smiled at her, trying his best to charm her, but it wasn't working.

"Listen pal, in a small town like this, it's hard to find good help. I mostly just get pregnant drop outs, and life is hard enough without you thinking you're clever!"

Puck looked past her at the waitress feeling a bit guilty, wondering if this was going to be Quinn in ten years.

"I'm sorry," Puck said softly. And he kind of was.

"Sorry for what?" Kurt asked as he sat down next to him, the waitress gone and his hair perfect once again.

"I – ah, I kinda told our waitress that I use you for blow jobs." God damn it, he was going to get left behind for that one. At least he'd get to sleep with the waitress then.

Kurt coughed and sputtered, "W–what?"

"I was joking!" Puck said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

Kurt slapped his arm. "No! Just no!" he said, like he was scolding a dog.

Puck apologized to the waitress, but he was sure that Kurt was still a bit mad at him, since they ate in silence.

"Keys," Kurt said firmly, holding out his hand.

Puck reached into his pocket and handed Kurt the keys. "I'm going to go piss before we leave."

Kurt nodded and paid the bill, leaving a few dollars tip. Puck waited until Kurt was outside before reaching into his own billfold, pulling out a twenty and placing it next to Kurt's tip, completely unaware that Kurt was watching him through the window with a genuine smile.

Kurt let out a sigh of relief when they pulled into the hotel. Puck, for the most part, talked about dinosaurs, which lead to a discussion about Jurassic Park, and then from there about other movies that Puck thought had a dramatic change on pop culture.

Kurt was impressed with his vast knowledge of useless information: he was more intelligent than he let others think.

"Hey, this hotel has a bar!" Puck stepped out of the car, rubbing his butt. Kurt rolled his eyes while he stretched.

"Are you going to drink every time we stop?" He recalled that Puck had also had two beers with his dinner.

"If I can help it!" He grinned and walked around to the back of the SUV, "I'll get the bags, you check us in."

By the time Kurt had filled out all the information, paid, and received their keys, Puck came waddling in, obviously struggling with Kurt's large bag.

"Did you pack your entire closet?" He groaned when Kurt walked towards him and took the smaller bag.

"Room 213."

He walked away, swaying his and leaving Puck to deal with the heavier bags. Puck scoffed but picked up the bags as he followed in pursuit.

"Alright, I'm gonna get changed and head to the bar." Puck rubbed his hands together; Kurt was sitting on the bed flipping through the channels on the TV.

"We got Skinemax right?"

"You're not watching porn," Kurt said firmly.

"It's just soft-core."

Kurt turned towards him, lifting an eyebrow. "No."

Puck shrugged. "Well then. Get dressed."

"Excuse me?"

Puck sat down on the bed next to him. "You need to get that stick out of your ass, although I suppose you gays would be into that stuff," He paused to smirk at his own joke, "But I'm not drinking alone. Like it or not, you're my wingman tonight."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you can find some desperate woman to drink with after a few minutes."

"I'm counting on it… which brings something else we need to talk about."

Kurt turned towards him, laying down the remote. "And what might that be."

"Dudes always buy the room."

"What?" Kurt asked shaking his head in confusion.

"If you find another homo and are gonna be doing the nasty, then you got to get another room, and the dude buys the room."

"I _am_ a guy. And I bought _this _room, which I intend on staying in."

Puck sighed. "So when you're doing it, you like taking it up the ass or giving it?"

"That is_ none_ of your business!" Kurt protested, but his voice became higher than he intended.

"That's what I thought; you're the bottom, so that makes you a chick. I'm the dude, so this is my room. If I get my hands on some sweet poontang, then I expect you elsewhere."

"Fine," Kurt said, crossing his arms and huffing, "How do I know if you have a girl in here?"

"I'll leave a sock on the door."

"Seriously? I thought they only did that in the movies."

Puck laughed and shrugged, "I love movies." He stood up, giving Kurt a slap on the back as if he was one of Puck's bros. "Now get dressed: the queer of your dreams might be downstairs."

"We're in Kentucky… I highly doubt it."

Puck leaned against the door of the bathroom, "So is this what this whole trip is about – getting laid?"

"No!" Kurt snapped and looked away. "I just want to go where someone like me is normal."

"And get laid." God damn that smirk of his.

Kurt turned towards him, huffing loudly; his cheeks were red with embarrassment, "Is that all you think about?"

Puck shrugged. "I'm a teenage boy, and sex is sex."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'll go, but drop the subject already."

This time it was more of a friendly (really? He was using that word?) smile, "Why are you embarrassed?"

"No, I would just rather not talk about it with you."

"Whatever, dude." Puck disappeared into the bathroom, and by the time Puck got out of the restroom, Kurt had changed and was applying makeup.

"How much longer are you gonna be?"

Kurt looked at him through the mirror and shrugged, "Well I'm gonna go ahead, I know how long you women take."

Kurt sighed, fluffing his hair one more time. "Meet you in ten," he said as Puck left the room. He grabbed his cell phone off the table and finished his routine.

Puck was sitting at the bar, listening to some really bad karaoke while working on his second beer and trying to flirt with a very jaded bartender. So far, he had been striking out. He checked the time on his phone; it had been almost 30 minutes since he'd left and he was bored.

"Homo chickened out," he groaned and turned his attention fully to his phone, which was sitting on the bar.

His phone vibrated with a new text; he picked it up and smiled when he saw it was from Santana. Hey, maybe if he couldn't get laid in real life, sexting could take some of the tension away.

_**LOL check this out!**_

She'd attached a link. Puck clicked on the YouTube video and nearly dropped his beer: it was Kurt and Karofsky. Puck's fist tightened to the point his knuckles turned white when he watched him nearly drown Kurt and then shoving him forward. He grimaced when he saw the blood and shook his head when Kurt had tried to kick him in the groin.

"What were you thinking!" He whispered out loud and then was impressed that Kurt had fought back. It was actually a good looking punch, but the second one was just an embarrassment. He was really disgusted when Karofsky had slammed him into the wall and punched him, knocking him out.

It was a lot worse than he had thought; Puck felt guilty. He should have forced Kurt to the hospital. He could have had a concussion or broken ribs.

He then received a second text, this time from Mercedes.

_**Does Kurt know?**_

Puck lowered the phone and looked towards the exit, putting his phone into his pocket.

In a matter of a few minutes he had several texts from his friends telling him about the link. It made him _sick _that they thought that was funny; this was wrong on so many levels and the only thing he could think of was getting to Kurt and making sure he was okay.

He ran back through the door, causing Kurt to jump, his phone on the ground. Puck saw that Kurt was watching the video, his makeup running and his eyes red from crying.

"Kurt! I'm sorry!"

The dam was broken and Kurt began to sob uncontrollably.

Instincts had taken over and he walked over, sitting next to Kurt and pulling him into his chest. Kurt's arms looped around his waist as he cried into his shirt. Puck had done the same with his mom more than times he wanted to remember, and although Kurt was a dude and the situation made him super uncomfortable, he wasn't heartless and he knew Kurt needed him right now.

He placed his hand on top of Kurt's head, stroking his hair; it helped his little sister when she's upset. He would continue until Kurt had finished crying or simply couldn't cry anymore.

"You want to talk about it?"

Kurt shook his head and refused to look at Puck; he was embarrassed, and really just wanted to find a hole to crawl up in and just die.

He didn't even shrug Puck's hand off when it touched his shoulder, he just took it wearily; this whole ordeal was so tiring.

"At least when we get back it will be old news." Puck said.

Kurt looked up frowning deeply. "It already has over 100,000 hits… I'll never live this down."

"At least you're famous now."

Kurt scoffed. "You're not helping."

Puck stood up, "Alright Hummel, then I will."

Kurt looked up. "What do you mean?"

"You fight like shit; your first punch was near good form and would have made a difference if your arm wasn't as limp as Hugh Hefner without Viagra."

"Get to the point."

"You hit like a weak dude."

Kurt threw his arms out in frustration. "What do you want me to say? That I'm weak… that I'm pathetic? Is that what you want me to admit?"

"You're not weak, dude… but you shouldn't fight like that. You obviously don't have the strength to back it up."

Kurt let out a heavy breath, "Then how should I fight!"

"Like a chick."

"You mean pulling their hair?" He laughed weakly.

"No, like women's self defense. You know, using your attacker's strength against them." He reached down and pulled Kurt up, pretending he was an attacker. "I'm gonna show you."

Kurt stood up and crossed his arms. "How do you know this?"

Puck shrugged, blushing a little, "My mom made me take classes with her when I was ten… I remember a few,"

"Okay," Kurt said again, surprised by Puck's vast knowledge.

"Okay… Well, I'm gonna pin you," he grabbed him and hip checked him into the wall. Kurt's eyes widened at the familiar situation.

"Okay, what is your first reaction?" Puck asked, his body pressed tightly against his. Kurt put his hands on his chest trying to push him away – okay, that wasn't his first reaction, but this was probably the best for the situation.

"Okay, that is your first mistake. You're pushing against my strongest part of my body, and it's not going to work. That can make things worse, you might just piss them off, and you lose your element of surprise. So keep your head level, okay?"

Kurt nodded, trying to ignore how close they were. "Okay, so if you get caught like this, you've got to attack right away; go all spider monkey on his ass!"

Kurt laughed. "Okay, what do I do? Do I punch?"

Puck shook his head. "With your hands cupped, slam them against the side of my face over the ears… it will throw me off balance. Take your hand here," he said grabbed Kurt's hand in his, and showed him the technique. "Use the palm to my throat and then you're gonna attack the groin, knee it two times if you can… then you run, because that dude isn't getting up."

Kurt nodded, swallowing hard as he slowly went through the techniques Puck was showing him.

"Good job," Puck commented as Kurt went through the movement.

"You can't hesitate, okay? So… want me to show you a ground attack?"

Kurt looked back up. "Okay." His throat had gone dry at their closeness; he longed to create some distance.

Puck instructed Kurt to lie down, and he did. He was surprised when Puck straddled him, "This is a fun one, you're gonna wrap your legs around my body and flip me… Afterwards, it's gonna be a lot of heel kicks, and if I get too close palm strikes"

Kurt's breathing hitched; this was just too close, too personal, too intimate. "Got it," he squeaked.

"I'm gonna be rough this time so… fight back. Just don't actually hit me please."

Puck grabbed a hold of Kurt's throat, just applying a little bit of pressure. Kurt fought back, managing to get him off and went through the kicks. By the end of the drill, Puck ended up lying on his back.

"Yeah that's how you do it!" He said between heavy breaths, "Do you think you can do that when it counts?"

Kurt sat up, his face flushed. "I think so. Do you… want to run through it again?"

Puck shrugged casually. "Sure."

He crawled over to Kurt, this time really straddling his hips. This time, when Kurt pushed him off, Puck grabbed a hold of him, making it more difficult.

Kurt cried in shocked as he was suddenly lying on top of Puck, their bodies _much_ closer than before.

Puck froze up as their eyes met. Kurt was breathing so heavily and really turned on by the situation and despite being a teenage boy he did manage to control his bodily function and didn't completely embarrass himself – but if this went on any longer, if Puck didn't get off him _right now… _

"That didn't go as planned." Puck said dryly, letting Kurt get off.

Kurt looked away; there was a moment of hesitation there and they both knew it.

"I'm going to bed."

Puck looked up, slightly confused as to what had just happened, "Good idea. Night."


	6. Tangled up with You

_**Author Notes; Special Thanks to Graces of Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 6 Tangled Up With You**_

"Kurt!_ Kurt! Kurt!"_

Kurt nearly fell out of bed when he heard his name being shouted.

He threw off his blankets and was on his feet within seconds, looking for the fire, but the room was still and calm. He was certain that he hadn't dreamt someone calling out to him, but it was already starting to feel like a faint whisper.

His eyes were drawn to Puck as he began to thrash in his sleep. Kurt walked to the side of his bed, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. Puck's entire body stiffened at the touch and Kurt froze, waiting for Puck's breathing to return to normal before he moved. He turned to go back to his own bed when Puck begun to mumble something incoherently.

Kurt wasn't a stranger to nightmares; when he was little, his mom would sing to him. After his mom died his dad would rub his back and hum (because the man couldn't carry a tune), so Kurt placed his hand on Puck's shoulder again.

Licking his lips nervously, he began to sing softly – out of instinct and a desire to give someone else comfort.

_You're my world  
The shelter from the rain  
You're the pills  
That take away my pain  
You're the light  
That helps me find my way  
You're the words  
When I have nothing to say_

Although "Tangled Up With You" by STAIND was a bit deep for his voice, he just loved the song to pieces. Something about it was so relaxing, assuring him that everything was alright.

_And in this world  
Where nothing else is true  
Here I am  
Still tangled up in you  
I'm still tangled up in you  
Still tangled up in you_

Puck's demeanor had changed when Kurt started singing and he was no longer thrashing, but his entire body still seemed a bit tense. Whatever he was dreaming, it was a rough one, and Kurt felt brave enough to put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

_You're the fire  
That warms me when I'm cold  
You're the hand I have to hold  
As I grow old  
You're the shore  
When I am lost at sea  
You're the only thing  
That I like about me_

Puck's body slowly relaxed, and Kurt reached out to touch his forehead.

_And in this world  
Where nothing else is true  
Here I am  
Still tangled up in you  
I'm still tangled up in you_

_How long has it been  
Since this storyline began  
And I hope it never ends  
And goes like this forever_

_In this world  
Where nothing else is true  
Here I am  
Still tangled up in you  
Tangled up in you  
I'm still tangled up in you  
Still tangled up in you_

Puck was sleeping peacefully when he had finished the song, and slowly he got up and yawned. It was three in the morning, and he had a feeling that Puck wasn't much of a morning person, plus the fact that he was the one driving.

Kurt lay back down in bed and couldn't help but be a bit curious to what Puck was dreaming about that he had called out his name. It didn't sound sexual (oh my God, just the thought was enough to frighten him) but with Puck it's hard to tell. Mercedes told him that Puck had once said that he was a sex shark; if he stopped moving he would die.

Kurt rolled his eyes, of course it wasn't sexual. For one he sounded scared, terrified even… well…then maybe it was a sex dream considering Puck it would likely be a nightmare to be with him. Kurt blushes as he imagines more than he wanted to, because thoughts like that could lead to heartbreak. He certainly did not need another Finn incident.

Looking over at Puck in the next bed, his face softened. "I hope I'm not falling for you, I can't fall for you," Kurt mumbled and rolled over so he didn't have to look at him and fell back asleep thinking about all the reasons why he should hate Noah Puckerman.

The following morning, Puck woke to Kurt walking around the room getting ready. He had his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he applied his morning moisturizers. "Yeah, dad. We're making good time." He leaned forward to the mirror as he started applying something around his eyes.

Puck groaned and got out of bed; he'd had some horrible dreams last night.

He'd been standing in the hallway of his school (not naked as usual, thank God) when he saw Kurt. He was about thirty feet away and hurt, real bad, just like the day he had found him in the restrooms, and then there was Karofsky. Puck started running towards him, determined to kick the living shit out of that hockey bastard, when the bell rang and hundreds of students started piling out of the classrooms, oblivious to Kurt. He tried pushing through them but it was just wave after wave of students and he couldn't reach him no matter how much he wanted to.

"Oh my god, Dad! Why do you always think that?" Kurt huffed with his cheeks burning. Kurt then saw his face through the mirror and turned a flaming red. "Dad, I've got to go! Yeah. I'll call you later. Love you."

"How did you sleep?"

Puck was sure Kurt was still blushing through the crap on his face, but he shrugged, not wanting to give an answer; sure, he had those bad dreams at first but he'd slept really well afterwards, so he had no complaints. "Gonna take a shower," he grumbled and walked past Kurt.

When Puck got out of the shower he came out in just his towel: he'd forgotten to bring any clothes in the bathroom with him. He noticed Kurt staring at him for a brief second before forcing himself to look away.

Puck didn't really blame the guy; he knew exactly how hot he was, and truth be told it was kind of flattering that prissy, "better-than-everyone-else" Kurt Hummel thought he was worthy of his attraction.

He grabbed his clothes and headed back to the bathroom. "Are you gonna be ready soon?"

"Um… Yeah," he said without looking up.

Puck nodded, noticing that Kurt was being awkward (it was more than him being almost naked) but decided that after the moment had passed, he just didn't care enough and went into the bathroom to change.

Kurt was struggling with his large bag when Puck came out of the hotel. He shook his head, bemused, and walked around to give him a hand. If he didn't pack things just right they would never fit everything. Puck began to hum as he grabbed Kurt's large bag from him and with one hand shoved it into place.

"What are you humming?" He said with a shaking, strained voice.

Puck looked up.

"Staind. Got it in my head some reason."

Kurt eyes widened. "Oh."

"I love this song; I think I got it on my IPod if you want to listen to it: 'Tangled up in you.'" Puck wasn't sure if Hummel would be into that stuff or not, but it was worth a shot.

"No!" Kurt said a little too quickly. Puck's eyebrows rose in confusion. "I'm driving, so it's my pick!" Kurt walked past him as quickly as possible.

For the first hour and a half, neither teen said anything. Puck was satisfied, texting away, although occasionally he would glance over at Kurt and wonder what his deal was.

At first he thought it was because of last night – he did straddle the dude (in hindsight it might not have been his smartest move) – but he had been a little bit drunk and was being nice because of the whole embarrassment beat down thing going viral… that should teach him what he gets for being nice. Lesson learned.

"How's Quinn?" Kurt asked, breaking the silence awkwardly.

Puck looked up and realized that Kurt was watching him text. He had been texting Quinn for about thirty minutes, and she was feeling particularly bad and complaining to him. Her due date was approaching quickly, and she had yet to choose an adoptive family, and it didn't help that Mercedes' family was getting ready for a vacation. They had offered for her to go, but Quinn didn't want to take the chance that she might give birth on a boat, so she decided to stay with Puck's mom while they were gone.

"Miserable." Puck figured he was trying to fix the awkwardness between them, and Puck didn't like awkward silences, so he was relieved at the attempt, "Her feet and ankles have been swelling."

Kurt frowned, "What a pity, she won't be able to fit into those cute shoes Mercedes and I picked out for her."

Puck laughed. "Is that all you think about?"

"Fashion is my life substance," Kurt said with a smirk, "Every moment of life is an opportunity for fashion!"

Puck scoffed. "I feel the same way about sex!"

Kurt blushed and returned his eyes to the road.

"I'm thinking that Quinn wants to keep the baby; has she said anything to Mercedes?" Puck asked, knowing that he caused things to be awkward again. God damn it, why did he keep coming back to sex around Kurt?

Kurt looked over briefly. "If she has, 'Cedes hasn't told me. Quinn and Mercedes are sort of BBFs now," he finished sadly.

"Just because they're living together," Puck said, trying to make him feel better, "Don't know what I'm gonna do if she keeps her. I mean I want her too. I told her I could get a house and we could be a family together."

Kurt turned towards him, quite surprised, "Is that what you want?"

Puck sighed.

"I don't know. It's hardly the American dream, but I _won't _be a deadbeat like my dad."

"I'm sure you would make a good dad." Kurt's smile was genuine.

"So do you want kids?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's a bit more complex for me."

"Not really. Homos adopt all the time," he went back to texting Quinn, "Although I seriously doubt that gays can raise a kid right."

"Why is that!" Kurt was offended, jerking his head sharply towards Puck.

"You know – how Rachel turned out," he explained.

Kurt mouth gapped a little before laughing. Right or wrong, Puck did have a point.

"Well she is the exception… I did read a study once that kids raised by same sex couple did better in school than their peers and were less aggressive."

"I dunno. I just wouldn't want to risk another Rachel. I mean she is kind of smokin', but the whole Baby Jane thing is a total turn off."

"What is so attractive about her? It seems like she has half the guys after her."

Puck shrugged. "I'm a legs man. And hot damn if those short skirts help." Never had he imagined that he'd get into a conversation like this with Hummel of all people.

It was only a simple glance, but Kurt looked down at his own legs for a second, and it didn't escape Puck's attention.

"I like tits too," he added quickly, trying to keep Hummel from comparing himself to a girl. He just couldn't have himself doing that either.

Kurt nodded, giving him a strange look, "Well, Rachel is kind of flat."

"That's why it didn't work," Puck said, satisfied with his answer.

"Quinn is flat too… and Santana isn't that big."

"Dude I didn't say big tits; I like the small, perky kind." He said, although he'd never been much of a tits man. Like he said, it's the legs.

"Since we're talking about what I like what sort of bubble biter are you looking for?" There we go, let _him_ feel super awkward now.

Kurt glared at Puck and rolled his eyes; hey, Hummel could at least say he was creative when insulting him.

"Or does any cock do?" Puck said with a laugh.

"Unlike you I am not a whore!" He said simply, "I don't want a one night stand; I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

"You kissed Brittany."

"That doesn't count!"

Puck laughed. "Like hell it doesn't, your lips met hers and she tells me that she used tongue."

Kurt blushed "Well she didn't tell me she was going to do that… it felt weird… kind of gay."

Puck turned towards Kurt with an amused smirk, trying not to laugh. "How did kissing a girl feel gay? I figured it would be your one straight moment ever!"

"Because I want to be with men, so to put it into your terms: I feel like a girl and kissing a girl feels like I'm kissing the same sex."

"Oh!" Puck said, "So are you gonna get a sex change?" Okay, even he knew that was insensitive, but this was too much fun.

"I'd rather not talk about this."

"You are, aren't you? What are you going to change your name to? Katie?"

Kurt frowned, gripping the wheel tighter. "No," he said firmly, "I like who I am. I like being a guy."

"Probably make it easier. You're already girly, might as well go for the whole thing."

"I don't have any problems with other people feeling that they need to do that, but I like whom I am. I like my body as is!" Damn, the kid was fun to tease and it helped take Puck's mind off imagining him as a girl.

"So are looking for your first kiss then?"

"Any chance of us dropping this?"

"Nope. I'm bored."

Kurt frowned. "Maybe… not that I'm looking for it but if I find someone then I wouldn't be against it." Kurt blushed as Puck's gaze remained on him. It was even like talking with a girl. The second he met someone, his v-card would be gone, he was just too willing.

Puck nodded. "I'm hoping to get laid," he said, with a shake of his head as if he said he'd wanted eggs for breakfast, "I think I've lost my groove."

"I'm sure it's just the pressure you're under," Kurt shrugged, not at all interested in his sex life (_at least that's what he kept telling himself_, Puck thought with an inner smirk).

"Yeah. Four months and counting. I'm getting _desperate_ – how do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know, not having sex, it's about to kill me."

"I guess it's because I've never had sex before so… Ignorance is bliss. I don't know what I'm missing, so I don't miss it."

"That's stupid. When I was a virgin, you know, when I was like twelve, I wanted to do it like crazy. I was horny as hell."

Kurt bit his lip. "Well, I am a teenage boy," he explained. "Maybe I'm just a little more tactful."

Puck chuckled. "You try to act all superior, but you're just like the rest of us aren't ya? You want it just as bad as any other guy does, maybe even more so."

"I am far superior to all of you!"

They switched places at dinner, and Puck had turned on STAIND. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him; he could tell that Puck had done it to judge his reaction. Kurt looked away and pulled out his phone and began to text Mercedes.

He was 99% sure that Puck didn't know that he had song to him last night, but he knew something was up.

While waiting for Mercedes to text him back, Kurt watched Puck pretending to be interested in his phone. He noticed that Puck always drummed the steering wheel to his favorite songs; everyone going faster than him were crazy, everyone going lower were assholes, and he had no patience. Puck liked to tailgate and rarely used the blinkers.

He also seemed to ask less embarrassing questions when he was preoccupied with talking about movies or celebrities. Puck knew more celebrity gossip than him (quite a feat), but he did watch an unhealthy amount of TV and seemed to retain all the useless information he heard.

Kurt imagined that he simply didn't have enough room in his head for common sense and that little voice that filters your thoughts before they get to your mouth.

A beep from his phone signaled that Mercedes had replied:

_**U sung 2 him?**_

Kurt knew that it was probably a mistake telling Mercedes, but he had to tell someone and she had always kept his secrets… the important ones, at least. She'd never told anyone that he had been in love with Finn.

**I don't know what I was thinking! **

He really hadn't.

_**Wht song did u sing?**_

**Why does it matter?**

_**B/c it does!**_

Kurt sighed, causing Puck to look in his direction for a moment; Kurt instinctively turned the screen away from his view.

**Tangled Up in You by Staind **_**Boy u r all types of crzy!**_

He sighed heavily and looked at Puck.

**I know**

_**He no u did it?**_

**No, but he keeps humming it.**

_**Subconscious, weird… I wndr what else his subconscious is thinking!**_

**Don't even go there!**

He almost responded to the last one out loud; he closed his phone and looked out the window, noticing that it was starting to get dark.

"I think this is our exit," Puck said.

Kurt sat up and looked at the road sign and then turned to his map, "We're gonna get off here and in five miles turn right. It should just be up the road from there."

"This is bullshit!" Puck yelled and slapped the closed sign.

Kurt could see the Dinosaurs from here. His heart dropped; the park was closed for scheduled maintenance. He just couldn't believe their bad luck.

Kurt had really been looking forward to seeing this place again – revisiting the first place his dad and he had really bonded. He hugged himself, exchanging glances with Puck before turning to walk back to the car, being that there was nothing they could do but keep going, when he heard a clang.

He turned to see Puck climbing the fence. "What are you doing?"

Puck flashed him a toothy grin as he straddled the top of the chain length fence. "Being a delinquent," he said and held out his hand.

Kurt was never much of a rebel; after all, the worst he could do was dance in the library to MC Hammer.

_Oh,_ but the way Puck was looking at him, with a half smile and holding out his hand, there was no way in hell he wasn't going over that fence. That grin could tempt any_one_ into doing _anything_. He ran up to the fence and took Puck's hand; his fingers were coarse from years of football and guitar playing, but Kurt didn't mind. Puck pulled him up with ease and helped him drop to the other side, even making sure not to ruin his clothes.

"This is crazy!" Kurt said as Puck jumped down beside him with ease behind him. He was a bit breathless at the though.

"Life is too short to be anything but!" Puck laughed before taking off to climb the first Dinosaur he saw. He managed to climb the tail with ease until he was sitting on the top of the T-Rex's head. "_I'm king of the world_!" He shouted, spreading his arms wide and craning his head towards the sky.

Kurt laughed. "Please don't fall!" he called up to him. He doubted that they were supposed to be climbing them like that – especially not the ones two stories high.

"Come up here!"

"No," Kurt replied as he strained his neck to look up, "I like it on the ground, thank you!"

"Come on, you sissy. I won't let you fall, I promise."

Kurt licked his lips and looked up nervously, but agreed. He went around to the tail to climb up like Puck had. He was actually a good climber – when he was younger his dad would force him to spend a certain amount of time outside because it was "good" for him. He began to climb into high places – higher than most kids dared to venture and most of the time they never found him anyways – just to avoid the others.

Although it had been a while since he'd climbed anything, the skill wasn't lost. He scaled up the tail easily and accepted Puck's hand to help him on top of the Dinosaurs head.

"Wow," Kurt breathed, looking around and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the park he could see everything. He did feel like he was a king up here, surveying everything else in the world below him.

Puck snuck up behind Kurt, getting a firm grasp of his waist (too fast for him to notice or process) and pushed him forward.

Before he could go flying down two stories, Puck's hands jerked him back.

"Save your life!" he cried.

Kurt let out a loud shriek when he was suddenly pushed and when he was jerked back. he swirled around and grabbed a hold of Puck.

Burying his head into his chest and trembling, Kurt held on for dear life and wrapped his arms and legs around the solid body as tightly as he could.

"I was only playing!" Puck apologized, realizing that he had really scared Kurt.

He gently placed his hand on the side of his head and brushed his hair away; like the previous night, Kurt seemed to relax and soften up a bit when he did that, his eyes closing softly.

Kurt looked up at Puck, biting his lip, and quickly untangled himself. He had to take a step back before his body betrayed him and he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to keep clinging.

"I know," he said softly and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, "It's amazing up here. It really is."

Puck had to agree and sat down, allowing his feet to dangle aim. Kurt walked over and mimicked his actions, placing his hands between his legs and leaning away from Puck.

"Thanks," Kurt said softly.

"For what?"

Kurt was looking towards the horizon at the small city of lights in the distance, "For this," he gestured to everything, a wide grin on his face.

"For being a delinquent, huh?"

"Yes," Kurt chuckled, "For being a delinquent and an effective bad influence."

They sat there together for awhile until Puck decided that he wanted to try to climb up the brachiosaurus neck while Kurt waited inside the massive structure.

Using his flashlight App, he looked through the displays; the Brachiosaurus was hollow and held a small museum about the Dinosaur. He idly went to each display, studying the contents, smiling as he remembered them clearly from his previous visit. He was always small for his age, and he could still remember his father lifting him up under the armpits so that he could clearly see inside the displays.

Puck came walking in, exhausted from his failed attempt to climb up the neck and sat down on the steps at the entrance. Kurt sat next to him, sighing contently.

"This is great," he said out loud, mostly to himself. It could hardly surprise him that he was having this much fun, this much contention, this much peace, with Noah Puckerman.

Puck nodded, leaning back supporting himself with his arms. "I'll have to bring my sister here sometime."

"Does she like Dinosaurs?" Kurt asked curiously.

Puck shrugged. "Probably not, but just because I spent a childhood in Lima without seeing the world doesn't mean she should."

Kurt smiled again. "You're a big softy!" It was the same voice that Puck had used on him when finding out he was "a perv" – surprised, but oddly delighted.

Puck gave him a solid push, causing Kurt to lose balance and fall on his back; he cried out in shock at the playful jest.

"Who's there?"! A voice yelled out.

Puck and Kurt both jumped up; neither of them had considered that his place had guards!

"Shit!" Puck said, as an elderly man came walking by with a flashlight.

Reacting instinctively, Puck pushed him against the wall and pressed his body into his making them as small as possible. The guard stood outside the entrance of the brachiosaurus, flashing his light into the darkness and muttering something about cats as he swept the area with his light.

Kurt had yet to breathe, and oh my _God_ it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He had _never_ been this close to another person before, and definitely not another guy. Kurt was sure the universe hated him, because he found himself _once again_ pressed up against Puck.

Puck was looking towards the entrance, watching the old man wobble away and exposing his neck to Kurt. Kurt closed his eyes and took in his scent: he smelled like sweat and Axe body spray and adrenaline and masculinity… it was intoxicating; he couldn't get enough.

Puck turned towards him, and Kurt held his breath, realizing that Puck had just caught him sniffing him. But his mind couldn't comprehend that embarrassment at the moment; it was hazed and lost with the lure of this perfect body above him, of the hard abs and sculpted chest. Both Kurt's hands were gripping Puck's chest for dear life (out of sheer unwillingness to let go, but at least not fear this time) and it was amazing how firm he was. He had seen him shirtless enough to know how ripped he was, but touching him was something else entirely.

Kurt didn't know if the guard was gone, and he honestly didn't care, and _holy shit!_ He thought he was going to melt into Puck when their eyes met.

"You smell like cherries."

Kurt's breathe hitched, and he licked his lips. "My lip gloss," he said, his voice dropping several octaves. Puck's eyes lingered on said lips.

"Cherries are my favorite," he said, and Kurt felt a hand on his waist – _had it been there the entire time?_ – and then Puck begun to lean forward, pressing them even closer – _he didn't even think they could get any closer_! Kurt knew what it looked like, knew what it felt like, but it was _impossible_ and with his mind being reduced to a puddle, his mouth took control.

"Noah, what are you doing?" he said, so soft he wasn't sure any sound had passed his lips, but it was enough to break Puck out of his trance. He took two hurried steps backwards, rubbing the back of his head. His face was twisted in confusion and then anger, frustration and embarrassment.

Kurt remained on the wall, afraid to move and not wanting that anger to be directed at him. The lack of embrace shattering his hypnotized mind, he instantly cursed himself for what he had done.

Puck stepped outside and looked both ways, avoiding Kurt's eyes, "Let's get out of here before we get caught." His voice was flat and drained, and Kurt nodded and quickly followed.


	7. Flash Backs

_**Author Notes Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 7 Flash backs **_

Kurt had barely said two words to him all day, other than "Hurry up" or "Carry this."

Puck knew he was being punished, but for what he didn't know.

It was Kurt's trip, so he figured that they would go shopping at some point… but god damn it, Kurt had spent the last _four hours_ going from shop to shop and taking his sweet-ass time, sometimes not even buying anything.

And of course Puck had to tag along because Kurt had the keys and refused to give them up, insisting that he do all the driving because he rather not die (Puck's driving wasn't _that _bad), even though Puck believed it was just because he wanted control over the radio and the little homo been blasting Broadway show tunes and giving him a nasty headache.

Whatever the reason for his foul mood (and there seemed to be several, all related to Kurt) it started last night after they had they had gotten back into the car after nearly getting caught by that guard, and since then it had only gotten worse.

_Puck shoved the keys into Kurt's hand, headed towards the passenger side, and climbed into it, slamming the door. Kurt jumped and the keys fell to the floor. _

_Kurt joined him in the car, putting the keys into the ignition._

"_Puck, I think we need to talk!"_

_Puck leaned forward, turning on the music and ignoring Kurt. It wasn't a big deal; they almost got caught–so what, it happens sometimes. He was pretty sure that they could out run that old man anyway. Puck couldn't blame him–he didn't have experience when it came to breaking the law like him–but it wasn't that close of a call so Kurt was obviously overreacting. Drama queen._

_Puck looked up. When Kurt turned off the radio (um, bitch?) he was fuming, Puck wanted to say something along the lines of "stop being such a prima diva and turn back on the radio", but Kurt had pulled the keys out and kept them out of his reach._

"_Puck, I'm sorry that you are having such a hard–"_

"_Apology accepted. We didn't know there was a guard." He shrugged. Really, dude, get over it. "Although we should get going before he checks the parking lot," he said, turning to look at Kurt. Done. Now what?_

_Kurt opened his mouth to say something but shut it quickly and turned his body to face the front. He put the keys into the ignition again and left the music where it was, not caring to change it. His shoulders were tense as he pulled out of the parking lot and his knuckles were white, gripping the stirring wheel._

"_You don't have to be upset," Puck tried to placate, "We didn't get caught."_

_Kurt slammed on the breaks, causing the unbuckled Puck to fly forward and hit his head on the dash._

"_Damn it, Kurt!" He groaned, rubbing his head. Fuck! Was the kid trying to send him through the window? He was seeing spots now. _

"_I'm not upset about the guard!"_

"_Dude, my head!" Puck said, pulling down the vanity mirror making sure that there wasn't a gushing wound. His own voice played back in his ear and through his brain, and he felt like he was having a hangover. Shit. _

"_Did you hear me?"_

_Puck turned towards Kurt, "What!"_

"_Never mind," Kurt hissed. _

Ever since then, even at the hotel, Kurt had been acting seriously bitchy at him–undeservingly, in Puck's opinion; if it hadn't been for him they would have gotten caught even might have spent a night in jail. _You're welcome, dude._

Puck sighed as he rested in one of those big lounge chairs that they had in the dressing room. As Puck waited, Kurt tried on his tenth outfit, which looked just like the other nine and just as gay. Kurt walked out of the dressing room wearing a pair of red skinny jeans, modeling them in the three way mirror and trying to check every angle.

"Can we _go_ yet?"

Kurt eyes cut towards him, mouth pulled down into a scowl, "Finding the right outfit takes time."

"Putting on those ridiculous pants takes time," Puck said, rolling his eyes. "Any tighter and you won't be having any kids."

Kurt blushed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Nah, I get it," He rested his head on the back of the chair, "You're like a chick: you want to make sure you look good at all angles, make sure your ass looks good."

Kurt frowned but did a 360 in the mirror again, this time his eyes specifically looking there.

"Your ass looks fine, let's go." Puck said, standing up. He was really losing his patience (and almost his lunch).

Kurt's cheeks flushed, even though he was mad at Puck. "I'll just get changed and buy these then," he hadn't intended on buying them, but Puck was right: his ass did look good in them.

He stepped out and went to the cash register with Puck trailing behind him. He didn't know how to get back at Puck after last's night disaster but knew he had to be punished for being a completely insensitive jackass. So he set to work on his phone, Googling possible shopping stops. He was thrilled when he found a shopping center that he could literally spend long, torturous _hours_ at.

He took the keys, knowing Puck would just sit in the car or drive off to find something more interesting. He used Puck's poor driving as an excuse and played show tunes as icing on top of the cake. Oh, _please_ let the punishment begin.

He bought the pants and gave his bag to Puck and began to walk towards the car, "I'm not your monkey, why the hell am I carrying this crap?" he complained. _Ugh, he should be happy it was only one bag. _

"Because!" Kurt said, not in the mood to talk to him. Puck had done nothing but complain, and Kurt wasn't going to be nice until he stopped denying what had happened. He had never seen anything like it before. Puck wasn't pretending that it didn't happen; it was scary denial, like he hadn't even noticed it.

_Puck shoved the keys into his hands; he stared at them briefly, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He'd been inches–no, centimeters–from kissing Noah Puckerman, the stud of William McKinley High School, the boy that knocked up the president of the celibacy club, the boy who still managed to talk Mercedes and Rachel into dating him despite his reputation. How _does_ he do it? Kurt still didn't know. _

_Kurt wasn't delusional; they had been _so close_ he could feel the warmth of Puck's lips, almost taste them._

_The door slammed._

_Kurt jumped at the sound and looked up slightly; Puck seemed upset about the whole ordeal and Kurt thought he should take it easy on him. Having your first almost gay experience must be difficult for a guy like him, so Kurt would take it slow and be careful not to scare him away. Not that he wanted Noah, (not a chance) because he has standards and Puck was a known heartbreaker. It didn't matter how good looking he was (which was very good looking). _

_Kurt got into the car and smiled sweetly, placing the keys into the ignition by habit and turned to Puck. _

"_Puck, I think we need to talk."_

_Kurt's mouth gaped open and he sure he resembled a fish as Puck leaned forward turning on the radio, completely disregarding him. His blood did boil a bit. What was wrong with him! _

_Kurt turned off the radio quickly and, almost as if he was reading Puck's mind, Kurt grabbed the keys out of the ignition and pulled them out as if he did know what Puck would do. Screw playing nice, they were going to talk about this whether Puck wanted to or not! This was important!_

_Puck turned towards him giving him a typical "What the fuck?" look. Could he _be_ any stupider?_

"_Puck, I'm sorry that you are having such a hard–_

"_Apology accepted," Puck interrupted, "We didn't know there was a guard. Although we should get going before he checks the parking lot." _

_Kurt had to look away to avoid the temptation to smack to the stupid out of the boy. So he did the only thing he could think off and started the car, deciding to go the hotel. Maybe Puck would be more reasonable there._

"_You don't have to be upset," Puck was just digging himself deeper, "We didn't get caught."_

_Kurt slammed on the brakes, causing Puck to fly forward (serves him right for not buckling up). He hit his head on the dash and cursed as he rubbed his head. _

_Kurt didn't care if his head was gushing blood (which it wasn't). _

"_I'm not upset about the guard!" His voice was at an ear-piercing pitch. God damn it, he was allowed to be unreasonable! _

"_Dude, my head," Puck complained, looking in the mirror._

"_Are you that much in denial? So what we almost kissed–it doesn't mean you're gay. It's natural. Everyone is a bit bi-curious if they would let themselves…" Kurt frowned. "Did you hear me?"_

_Puck looked away from the vanity mirror. "What?"_

"_Never mind," Kurt hissed. It wasn't worth the effort to try and convince Puck; he was too obsessed with himself to see what was so amazingly obvious about himself. _

When they had gotten back to the hotel Puck had tried to–ugh–make _small talk_ with him_,_ pretending like nothing had happened, but it wasn't the conversation Kurt wanted to have and he wasn't in the mood to forgive and forget either.

So he just ended up ignoring him, taking a shower (_scrubbing extra hard _because he just felt so disgusted) and then crawling into bed. He even stole the remote so Puck couldn't watch TV and made a mental note _that there was no way in hell he was going to sing to him again,_ bad dreams be damned!

Maybe today hadn't been a good day so far, even though he had found a great shopping center and tried to buy himself happiness with a few clothes; but his mind kept drawing back to that one moment, not even a moment, a _what if_ moment that he now knew that he'd ruined by speaking about it.

Kurt did know that he had to get Puck to talk about it, and knowing how agreeable he was when fed, he decided now would be a good time to stop for lunch. They found a restaurant within the shopping center that looked good.

Puck's mood even seemed to lift a little when he had suggested they get a bite to eat. So Kurt purposely chose an outside table, just in case Puck was ready to _talk. _ Kurt ordered a salad with a diet coke and Puck a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and a milkshake.

"I thought you were Jewish," Kurt said after the waitress had taken their orders.

"Last time I checked I still am," he muttered without looking at Kurt. He was frowning, obviously still in a bad mood.

Kurt wondered perhaps if he had over done it. _Of course not, he deserved it._

"You ordered a bacon cheeseburger. Bacon is pork."

Puck nodded and looked up idly, playing with his wrapped silverware on the table, "We're kinda bad Jews."

"Maybe not traditionalist," Kurt suggested with a smile. He really didn't want to be mad at Puck the entire trip; although it was a little too soon to totally forgive him, he didn't have to behave hostile to him.

"Guess so."

Kurt's face fell when Puck shrugged his shoulders, not at all into the conversation. "Do you want to talk about what happen last night?" Kurt asked warily.

"You mean when you busted my face?"

Kurt furrowed his brow, "No… Before that. When you had me pinned to the wall."

Puck shifted uncomfortably, as if he was sitting on pins-and-needles.

Kurt took his _distress _as a good thing; at least it wasn't complete denial.

"I know it's… difficult for you to admit, but I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"A little late for that."

He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the distraction, when the waitress bough out their food. Puck grabbed his burger, taking several forceful bites.

Kurt thanked the waitress and looked down at his own salad, completely lost. He knew what had almost happened, and by Puck's reaction so did he; what did it mean? To Kurt's knowledge, straight men didn't almost kiss other men, but it didn't mean he was gay. Puck would likely take offense to that… Bisexual, perhaps?

Kurt looked up at Puck, trying to determine if that was possible. Perhaps he had been mistaken. He had pushed Finn and that was a disaster; maybe he should just let it drop and leave it as one of those things that are never spoken of. Why make it worse when he had a tenuous grasp on his attention already?

"Noah?" He said weakly as he played with the straw in his diet coke, moving around the ice and diverting his eyes.

Puck's eyes were on a couple of girls with skin tight jeans, walking by.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "That's disgusting!" The two girls couldn't be older than fourteen.

"What?" He said, pretending to be innocent, "It's legal."

"It's immoral," Kurt replied, even though he knew it would fall on deaf ears. "Listen, Noah," he said with a heavy sigh, "I really want to talk."

"We are talking," he responded, exhaling noisily when the two girls were out of sight.

"Are you that afraid?" Kurt asked as he dipped his fork into his salad. He brought the small bite to his lips, waiting for his answer.

"Listen Kurt, I'd just rather not talk about it, okay… Nothing even happened, and it's best just to forget… Hey, are you listening to me?" Kurt had been hounding him and now was completely dazed while Puckwas trying to say _his_ piece!

"Uh…"

Puck followed Kurt's line of vision and snorted. Standing a few feet away was a guy in sunglasses, wearing a black form-fitting shirt that had silver and green lettering that read _Alejandro. _His blue jeans were tighter than what Puck would wear, but not nearly as tight as Kurt's skinny jeans.

Kurt's eyes lingered on him as he talked to a couple and handed them a green flyer; the guy smiled and talked a few minutes before he notice the two of them. Puck groaned–he was heading this way!

"Hi!" he greeted; dude obviously bleaches his teeth. He lifted his sunglasses, placing them on his spiky blonde hair; what dude highlights their hair, seriously?

Puck instantly didn't like this douche, something about him made him want to punch him; however, Kurt seemed to have the opposite response. "Hey, I want to let you know! Our afterhours club is having a grand reopening," he said, handing Kurt a flyer.

It didn't take a genius to know what kind of club it was.

"Wow!" Kurt whispered, holding the flyer. Puck glanced over at the flyer. _Alejandro Nightclub, _how original.What did the gays find so interesting about Gaga anyway? The music was alright but the outfits were just weird. He couldn't even tell if the chick was hot or not with all that crap she wore (well, he'd heard that she had a penis, maybe that's why all these fruits liked her so much).

"I didn't know there was a club around here," Kurt said, obviously referring to a _gay_ club.

"Ah we get that a lot, the club has been here for almost ten years. We just decided to make it more mainstream." He ended the statement with a wink that made Puck's lunch curdle in his stomach.

He looked up at the tall flyer-passer-outer who had his eyes fixated on Kurt, a soft glaze studying him, occasionally licking his lips nervously.

"I'm Thomas," he finally decided to say; stupid name.

Kurt looked up, blushing like a freshman girl. "Kurt," He replied, biting his lip, "This is Noah."

"Puck," he corrected him. He didn't want to be on a first name basis with this jerk.

"May I join you?"

Puck was going to say no but Kurt had jumped up and pulled out the chair for him. "Please do!"

Thomas smiled and sat down, pushing his chair closer to Kurt. Puck was sure they were close enough that their knees were touching under the table if he ever wanted to look.

"Do you think that you and your boy…"

"Finish that sentence and I'll punch you."

Thomas was taken back, giving Puck a chance to notice that he was taller than him, although not as tall as Finn.

"Ignore him," Kurt said, glaring in Puck's direction. "He's not my boyfriend… I wouldn't even consider him much a friend."

Puck rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to his sandwich.

"Oh… Well, do you think that you will able to come?" Thomas asked. Hopefully never in a million years, Puck thought.

"No." Puck answered for him. There was no way that they were going to a gay club and he wasn't going to stay at the hotel either. He tended to get into trouble when he was bored: starting fires, stealing, the usual stuff. He didn't want to take the chance of getting arrested because he doubted Kurt would bail him out.

Kurt didn't hesitate. "Yes, of course!" he said, glaring at Puck as ifto say, "My trip, my choice." God damn that ass-chasing fairy.

"I'm sure there's a bar I can go plant you at," Kurt said to Puck but kept his eyes locked on Tommy.

"Um," Thomas said rubbing his head. "We're the beaten path. There used to be another bar but it burnt down a couple of years ago."

"Because you guys were so flaming," Puck snickered.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Sorry about him," he muttered. Thomas grinned and waved it off; Puck wondered if he was just playing cool to impress Kurt. He was eager to learn which buttons to push to turn his cool exterior into the bumbling asshole that he is.

"We are friendly towards the straight community; you wouldn't be uncomfortable. We do have afterhours starting at midnight that you might not want to stay for, but our club is very mainstream." he said, shifting his position in his chair to look at Puck.

Puck mouth was full of onion rings, "No."

Kurt exhaled heavily. "I'll just leave him at the hotel," Kurt said, leaning towards Thomas. Like hell you will, Puck thought, this dude totally looks like a rapist.

"No," he repeated for a third time, "You dad wants me to look after you and this isn't a good idea," he said, quite satisfied on the bullshit he had just pulled out. Showing a bit of concern would no doubt have Kurt eating out of his hand.

"Oh, just like how you told me not to follow you around once we got to Key West?"

_Shit._

"I'm going," he said firmly.

"Hey, have you ever heard the term 'Fag Hag'?" Tommy asked, looking at Puck.

"That sounds disgusting," Puck replied.

Kurt snorted; Puck tilted his head, wondering what was so funny.

"No… It's nothing like that," Tommy said, chuckling, "It's the _affectionate_ term for straight women that hang about gay men."

Kurt nodded, getting where he was going with this.

"These women are mostly single," Kurt added.

"And desperate."

This had Puck's attention, desperate was the magic word.

"_How_ desperate?"

Tommy leaned forward to make his point clear. "They are in love with gay men… How desperate do you think?"

Puck grinned and looked at Kurt. Kurt eyes were wide with excitement, knowing that they had him.

"Do I get a shirt or a bracelet that lets them know I'm not a homo?"

Tommy's brow wrinkled. "No… We don't have any of those," he said, looking at Kurt. "But the 'fuck off' tactic usually works."

Puck nodded; he was a big fan of the "fuck off" tactic.

Tommy reached into his pocket, producing a pen, and wrote on Kurt's flyer. "That's my cell… In case you get lost," he said, winking, and then stood up to continue passing his flyers out to other poor, unsuspecting homos.

"As soon as anyone grabs my junk we're out of there," Puck said as he walked away.

"Gay doesn't equal pervert," Kurt hissed, obviously offended.

"Right. Whatever."

Kurt smiled at his reflection; considering he had only a few hours to get ready, he was pleased with the results. Earlier, using the justification of the inquiring the dress code of the night club, Kurt had called Thomas. Even though Thomas had claimed to be busy, their conversation had run over thirty minutes, which seemed to fly by.

He gathered that it was mostly normal club attire, although it wasn't uncommon (especially on Friday nights) for the more bizarre costumes; they were called Alejandro, which encouraged Lady Gaga enthusiasts. Having such a large frame to work from, Kurt had decided on something simple yet eye-catching. He did a 360 as he examined his work.

The coat was a rare find; white with a high neck and the shoulders left bare while the sleeves got wider and wider as they approached his wrists (Kurt had a thing about exposed shoulders). The tank underneath was a checkerboard, a mix of black and neon green, pink, and blue colored squares that he was sure would shine on any dance floor. The black jeans were the tightest he could find and showed off his ass perfectly (okay, he'd lied to Puck, maybe he _did_ anticipate getting some action), and the dark boots had a slight heel, just comfortable enough for dancing. All in all, Kurt thought he looked… _hot._

It had taken some convincing on Kurt's part for Puck to allow him to pick the look for the evening. Basically, it had come down to Puck being allowed to choose their side attractions for Sunday and Monday. He reluctantly agreed (although he was sure Puck would come up with some form of torture) but he hoped that Puck's lack of attention span and general listlessness would prevent him from becoming too creative.

If he had known they were clubbing, he might have insisted that they went shopping for Puck, but he imagined he would have met more resistance, which wasn't worth it, so he could work with Puck's limited medley of wrinkled garments.

He decided on a nice pair of blue jeans; likely the only pair that wasn't ripped, torn, or faded in some place. They seemed a bit tighter than Puck's normal attire, explaining the lack of wear and tear. He didn't understand boys, wearing something until it literally falls off them. He laid out a light brown tee shirt with a golden Fitch tearing the tape out of a cassette. He had three choices of belts; _seriously, only three only, how does he function?_ Luckily he had packed a leather vest (and for whatever reason his Letterman jacket as well), which was a bit of an older spring. Clubs tended to be a bit hot due to the body heat, but first appearances are everything and if they were going to enter this club together, Puck had to look halfway decent.

Puck had taken maybe ten minutes to get dressed and complained the entire time, eventually resorting to lying on the bed with his legs crossed, flipping through the TV channels.

Deciding to give Puck a shock, he walked out of the bathroom like he was on the catwalk, stopping in front of him and modeling the outfit. Puck just looked slightly annoyed that he was standing in front of the TV. Okay, not the results he expected.

"How do I look?" he asked, striking a pose that would make Madonna proud.

Puck sighed and gave Kurt a look over and shrugged.

"Do you like it?" he asked, slightly self conscious. "Do you think the hair is too much?" He touched the spiked up do that was totally out of left field from anything that Puck had ever seen on him before.

Puck's eyes lingered on his bare shoulders, unconsciously licking his lips (which Kurt did notice), and shrugged. "Looks fine… Ready to go?" he asked, but his gaze was fixated on him all the same.

Kurt shifted his weight uncomfortably under Puck's observant eyes and bit his lip, "Do you think Thomas will like it?"

Puck glared upwards, frowning at the name and for the third time evading the question with a shrug.

He could tell that Puck didn't like the guy, but he did. He knew he'd just met him, but there was an undeniable chemistry there and he personally couldn't wait to see him again.

Puck was nervous, to say the least, when they pulled up into the nearly full parking lot. Yeah, he was into desperate women as much as the next player, but he was kinda of worried what kind of freak show it was going to be in there.

"You're not going to embarrass me, are you?" Kurt asked as they got into line to get into the club.

"Are you… Oh yeah, you already are embarrassing," he said, motioning to his outfit.

"I look good!" Kurt hissed, reaching up to touch his hair. Puck fought to suppress a laugh.

The doorman, a big guy with a shirt like Thomas, was checking everyone's ID. "You did bring it right?" Puck asked as he got out his own wallet.

"Of course, but I don't think it will work… I don't look 21!" Kurt squeaked.

Puck rolled his eyes. "It's about attitude: you've got to make him believe you are."

Kurt nodded and swallowed hard as he handed the very large man his fake ID. The doorman looked at the ID and down at Kurt and chuckled.

"Best I've seen all night." He handed Kurt's ID back and put a stamp on his hand, "Minors have to leave at midnight, got it?"

Kurt nodded immediately and ducked into the club sheepishly. Puck rolled his eyes and after a quick glimpse the doorman let Puck through, no questions asked.

He was surprised, to say the least; he honestly was expecting something freaky: lots of lights, a disco ball and techno music blasting; possibly nearly naked dudes grinding against one another. But the club looked just like any other he had been to, maybe a little nicer and maybe more guys dancing with one another, but otherwise normal.

There was a large circle bar, a dance floor and tables and chairs for relaxing and drinking. The lights weren't blinding and the music was current.

Puck looked down at Kurt, who was nearly hopping in place; he chuckled softly. It was sort of cute. "I'm gonna get something to drink, do you want something?"

Kurt held out his stamp hand. "No thank you, I don't want to risk getting caught," he said and his feet began to move towards the dance floor as if it had a magical pull on him. Puck shrugged and headed towards the bar, leering at a couple of girls making out. Maybe this place wouldn't be _too _bad.

He needed some liquid courage and sat at the bar. "Hey honey, can you get me a beer?" he said to the bartender. The woman was petite and had a cute face, although he could do without the butch hair cut.

"Show me your hands," she asked. Puck held up his hands, wiggling his fingers playfully, showing that there was no stamp and she nodded. "Do you care what you drink or anything will do?"

"Smirnoff." he said, and swirled around in search for these desperate women Kurt and that guy had mentioned. They weren't hard to find: it was pretty much any woman that was dancing with the men on the dance floor. He could tell by their body mannerisms that they were in love with their gays. He chuckled and looked back when the bartender handed him his drink.

He reached into his pocket to pay when she shook her head, "Compliments from the gentlemen across the bar!"

Puck's eyes found who she was talking about and he felt himself blushing; he never had a drink brought from him before and wondered if that would make him the bottom… "Um, I prefer to pay. If you could tell him I'm not gay."

The bartender's eyebrow lifted, "Are you lost then?"

Puck chuckled, "No… I'm traveling with that little fruit in the black jeans on the dance floor," he said with a shrug. The bartender's eyes went to the dance floor and found Kurt. He was dancing alongside a few guys.

"Ah, hot pants," she said with a wink, "He was noticed right away!"

Puck lip curled slightly, "Uh huh?"

"It's common for guys to buy other guys drinks here; you're good looking, so I suggest you just let them buy you drinks. It will be cheap and you don't have to talk to them."

Puck considered this. Free drinks and he could always avoid the guys. "Alright," he said, "But I'm not gay!"

"Of course not, dear."

"Hey there, Puck," Tommy said, walking up to him. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt, with blue jeans. He looked really plain compared to Kurt, who he tried to steal another glance at, and his white jacket and bright shirt glowed in the night light.

"Glad you could make it," he said, also trying to look for Kurt.

"Yeah, I'm thrilled," he muttered, taking a long sip from his beer.

"Well, I'll see you around!" He'd evidently spotted Kurt. Puck's eyes followed Tommy as he went on the dance floor and greeted Kurt, who even hugged him. He couldn't tell what they were saying from here but Kurt was laughing, obviously flirting.

"Honey, do you think you could get me something a bit stronger?" Puck asked. Whatever good mood he had was long gone and he felt like drinking just to stop his head from throbbing and his chest from feeling like it was compressed.

"Sure thing," she said and returned with a couple of shots. "There are plenty of guys here that are willing to buy you drinks." She added a chuckle, seeming impressed, "You're very good looking!"

Puck grinned up at her. "Yeah?" He said, leaning into the counter, an eyebrow raised.

She laughed. "Barking up the wrong tree buddy," she replied with a smile. Damn, he'd known it. "Just saying," she said, pulling out a signup sheet, "but we're having an amateur stripping contest at midnight after the minors are gone."

Puck snorted. "No thanks." He wasn't some gay man whore.

"Oh, come on. It's an annual thing, very popular."

"I'm not gay!" he repeated.

"I know that, dear; just thought you would be interested in the thousand dollar reward for 'best in show.'"

He nearly choked on his shot, "A thousand dollars for taking off your clothes!"

She shook her head, laughing again. "Of course not. No, it's a thousand dollars for taking your clothes off _well._ This is a big deal, and there are a lot of good dancers that want that prize."

Puck looked at the sheet. "Do I gotta use my real name?"

"Nah, baby, an alias is fine."

Puck nodded; a thousand dollars could buy a lot of things for his baby's mama, and although he would rather eat glass than try to seduce a bunch of gay men, he hesitantly wrote his name on the sheet. "I'm gonna need a lot more shots!"


	8. Lick

_**Author Notes Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 8 Lick**_

Most of Kurt's experience with dancing involved him alone in his basement in front of the video camera his father had brought him for his fifteenth birthday. Since he'd started sharing his room with Finn, he didn't dance so much anymore, other than when he was in Glee. He was a bit jittery and nervous that he would be rusty when he hit the dance floor. However, his confidence was restored by the amount of attention he was receiving.

He had to, on more than one occasion, bashfully step back when someone started dancing too close to him, grabbing his hips, grinding against him. He was fully aware that was just how people danced in clubs, but he wasn't comfortable with it and would politely break free, creating a bit of space around him that occasionally someone would break into if they dared to touch him, like he was forbidden fruit.

Kurt had hoped to dance with Thomas. Once he'd entered the club, however, the man had apologized; apparently a friend of the family owned the club and he had been helping to make sure that their re-opening was running smoothly.

While Kurt did love a guy who took responsibility, he really wanted to get to know that tall, handsome stranger. Thomas had promised, however, that he would dance _with him_ later in the night.

He headed to the bar and stared down at his hand. The stamp stared back at him. He wondered if Thomas knew he was a minor, hoping that he wasn't too young for him. He wondered if the man would still be interested when he got the boot with the rest of the kids.

"Can I have some water?" Kurt asked the bartender. She nodded and handed him a bottle.

"You're quite popular," she said as she mixed a drink for another costumer.

Puck snorted. Kurt glared at him; he had been aware of Puck's sour mood. He had been sitting there the entire time, drinking. Although he had seen a few guys come up to talk to him, _which made Kurt nervous._ He honestly didn't know how Puck would react to a man flirting with him. He was, after all, a very good-looking guy and would no doubt have some admirers.

To Kurt's surprise, Puck would sit and talk to whoever walked up. Kurt was even sure that he was letting them buy him drinks; they would talk for a few minutes before leaving him be. For a jerk, he was being quite tame.

"I-It seems so," he replied with a blush.

"It's because you might as well have your V card plastered to your head," Puck slurred, causing Kurt to blush even deeper.

"E-Excuse me?" Puck must be drunk.

"You're a tease, shaking your ass but as soon as anyone gets to close you push them off! It's maddening… for them."

"Have you been watching me this entire time!" he snapped back, trying to call him out, although he didn't know what that meant if he had. Puck was here to flirt and possibly get lucky with a girl. The deal was that they got here, went their separate ways, and ignored one another. Why was he breaking the rules? As far as he could tell Puck hadn't moved at all, not even bothering to flirt with a girl.

"No!" he said, taking another drink. Kurt reached out and clawed the shot from him.

"I think you've had enough! I can't carry you if you get plastered!"

Puck glared at him. "Don't worry about me, Princess."

"Don't call me that!" Kurt hissed. He really didn't like this side of Puck; he was mean and withdrawn. It reminded him of that guy that used to throw him in the dumpster, and he didn't like it.

"Fine I won't… You can have your damn shot… Just stop watching me, okay, Noah… It's _so_ gay."

Puck's eyes widened. Kurt smirked; he was done tiptoeing around this guy just because he had more swings in his moods than a pregnant Quinn.

Kurt began to walk away from that headache when he ran into Thomas.

"Hey there," Thomas smiled and glanced back of Puck, noting the large scowl on his face, "Everything okay?"

Kurt nodded and looked at Puck before returning his glaze to Thomas. "Want to dance?" he asked hopefully.

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, I'm free now. I'm all yours."

Kurt blushed and slipped his hand into his, leading him onto the dance floor, and secretly hoping the next song was a slow one.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Thomas asked above the music as they stepped on the dance floor.

"Best time I had in a long time," Kurt admitted, a warm smile on his face.

Thomas smiled softly and pulled Kurt closer to him as they began to dance. "It's too bad that no one is taking care of you," he said with a dark, low voice. Kurt bit his lip and fluttering his eyes at Thomas. Oh my god, yes, he was definitely a charmer, and Kurt liked it.

The music began, a slow sexy beat that Kurt recognized: "Lick" by Joi.

He looked up and saw Puck staring at them over his shot glass. Kurt grinned and looked back at Thomas. If he wanted to watch them, Kurt would give him something to watch.

_**I lose all control  
When you grab a hold  
And you do your trick  
I love it when you lick**_

He turned to Thomas, swaying his hips slowly to the song. Thomas's eyes focused on his hips as they moved slowly to the rhythm. Kurt's hands explored his own chest and down his side to his hips. He bit his lip, hopefully seductively, looking at Thomas with a small blush forming on his cheeks.

_**Lick**_

Kurt's hands found their way to Thomas, placing one hand on the man's chest as he moved his hips, daring to lower it. Thomas' breath hitched as Kurt ass swayed upwards, going down and up to the beat, his hips following.

_**You've got lock and key  
Every part of me  
Know what makes me tick  
I love it when you lick**_

Kurt swirled around to rest his back against Thomas' chest, his own ass brushing against Thomas' groin as he swayed. Thomas's hands touched Kurt's hips, not restricting or guiding him but simply moving along with him, giving him the control. He didn't grind into him as the others did but allowed Kurt to move their contact. He was slightly hunched over, his breath hot on Kurt's neck and ears.

_**Lick**_

Kurt's eyes cut upwards and met Puck's. There was an unrecognizable emotion in them that slightly frightened him, but he couldn't look away.

_**I'll put my heels on for you baby  
The ones that wrap all around my leg  
Your every touch excites me  
And damn it I ain't too proud to beg  
And even when you're not around me  
The tingling just won't go away  
Don't make my body wait no longer  
Because this pussycat's ready to play play play play play**_

Without looking away, Kurt leaned slightly forward, pressing his ass against Thomas, asking him without words to go a little bit further, still staring at Puck as he grew hotter and hotter and Thomas' hands got lower and lower.

_**I lose all control  
When you grab a hold  
And you do your trick  
I love it when you lick**_

Kurt leaned back up, feeling an unfamiliar heat in his groin, and moved his hands towards it, rubbing his inner thighs and rubbing down his leg purposely, never touching the area that ached with his own, hot need.

_**Lick**_

Puck looked away. _Victory, _Kurt closed his eyes and moved against Thomas, pumping faster as the song picked up. Now he needed speed, skin, contact; he wanted to keep that heat.

_**I lose all control  
When you grab a hold  
And you do your trick  
I love it when you lick  
**_

His sweat was running down his face and neck; he could feel eyes on him, more than just Puck's. He liked the attention; he especially liked Thomas's hand on his side.

_**Lick**_

Kurt turned around, wrapping his arms lazily around the man's neck, straddling his leg between his partner's legs, and let loose to grind against it. For a second, he met Thomas's eyes, dark with lust and desire.

_**You've got lock and key  
Every part of me  
Know what makes me tick  
I love it when you lick**_

And although there is lust in his eyes and through the way they are dancing, Kurt had never felt Thomas's hands move to inappropriate places. He was a complete gentleman, even through their dry humping. The song ends and Kurt pulls away, feeling embarrassed and horny at the same time and smiles at Thomas sheepishly. God, he's never done anything like that before, but he knows he wants to do it again.

"Want to go sit down?" he asked, brushing a bit of hair off Kurt's forehead, fingers lingering for a moment on the heat of his face.

"Please," Kurt replied breathlessly and allowed Thomas to take his hand.

Puck had never been more thankful in his entire life when that god damn song had ended. He had no intention at looking at Kurt ever again; he was pretty pissed at that other homo for calling him gay, and then when _that_ song started and he started moving his ass like that like he was a piece of meat on display.

He couldn't look away; hell, half the bar was watching the free exotic show. He was beyond embarrassed when Kurt had caught him looking again, but screw him it's a free country and he can look at whoever he wanted. He tried to smirk arrogantly, but the way Kurt was looking at him it made him lose his breath.

"Wow, baby, your boy sure can dance!" the bartender said behind him.

Puck ignored her. He was really pissed at Hummel right now, that little cocksucker did that on purpose, trying to tease him like that…

"Didn't notice!" he said, not looking at her or Kurt or Tommy.

"Keep drinking and you're not going to be able dance tonight," she said as she set his drink down.

"I'll be fine," he replied, not really caring what she had to say, and grabbed the drink. At this point he didn't care what it was; he just wanted to get wasted enough that he'd forget what he just saw.

"You looked stressed, honey," a woman in a short skirt and high heels said as she took the empty seat next to him. Puck glanced over; she had a smoking body and a so-so face with long black hair: definitely doable, although he might need to get just a bit drunker.

Puck smirked. "Never been more care free, baby," he slurred and leaned towards her.

"Obviously," she replied, "They call me Diana."

"What can I call you?' He asked; she had a smoker voice that was _totally hot._

She took Puck's drink and took a sip of it, her lipstick leaving a kiss mark. "Anything you want," she said, rolling the glass on her big full lips. Puck bit his lip as his glaze travel down from her face to her large breasts.

"Wanna dance, babe?" he asked after his gaze returned to its proper place.

"I'm not sure you can dance, much less stand, stud. How do you plan to keep up with me?"

Puck stood and stretched, giving her a glimpse of his abs through the shirt. "Don't worry about me, babe. I can always keep up."

He winked and held out his hand; Diana smiled and took it, straightening out her skirt before following him on the dance floor. "Rockstar 101" by Rihanna was blaring as he pulled her close. She danced around him, touching his chest and stomach; he even felt her hands on his ass.

She was definitely good, and, despite being drunk, Puck managed to keep up with her easily.

He could see Hummel from the dance floor and smirked; that little bitch had tried to tease him_,_ he would show him. He grabbed Diana, leading her across the dance floor to where he was closer to Kurt and began to show off some of his more impressive (and sexy) moves.

"So," Thomas said, leaning in and touched Kurt's face, his breath hot with concern, "Who did this?"

Kurt froze and backed away from his exploring touch. He touched his own face, realizing that he had sweat off his makeup. The bruises had faded to the point that makeup could cover them, and he had nearly forgotten entirely about the incident in the bathroom.

"I… I…" Kurt stuttered, not sure what to say. How do you explain to a person that you just met, _although have this amazingly hot and undeniable chemistry_ with, that you were beaten and filmed because you're queer as a three dollar bill and then later said video was posted to YouTube to further humiliate you and to ensure your permanent residency in Loserville?

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Thomas apologized, backing away.

Kurt smiled weakly. "No, it's fine," he said and looked up at Thomas. "I was in a fight at school." He's surprised how easily that came out.

Thomas nodded and urged him to continue.

"Well, I did fight back," he said weakly, glancing at his hands, "And it didn't end well." He didn't want to go into detail, mostly because he wasn't ready to face it himself, and he was relieved that Thomas didn't press the issue further.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, that you had to go through that," he said sincerely and honestly. "I hear stories like that time to time. That's why places like this are important… To have a community to rely on… It's just a night club, but…"

"It's so much more," Kurt tenderly finished for him.

Thomas tilted his head and nodded. "So… You said you and Puck were heading to Key West?"

"Yeah, I heard it's really fun during Spring Break."

Thomas nodded in agreement. "It's a bit more extreme than this club, but it is fun. Would it be completely stalkerish of me if I considered, maybe, possibly meeting you down there?"

Kurt laughed and blushed, "Are you going too?"

Thomas shrugged. "It's Spring Break, and, well, I haven't been in a couple of years. The drag races are fun and the bars and shows are amazing… I don't expect you to meet up with me or anything but I really, really enjoy your company."

Kurt smiled. "Well, if you do find yourself there, you can call me," Kurt bit his lip and turned his head sheepishly to the side. "Oh my god," he said when he caught sight of Puck.

Thomas followed his glaze and saw Puck dancing, quite poorly, on the dance floor and then noticed his dancing partner.

"Does he realize that's a drag queen?"

Kurt bit his lip and pulled out his phone. "I doubt it." He began to film him, "But he will tomorrow!"

Puck was having a great time; Diana was a good dancer and he'd pulled Kurt's attention away from Tommy. He pulled her close and began to grind against her, his hands travelling up her body. He looked up and saw that Kurt had his phone out and was filming him.

Being as drunk as he was it didn't connect why he would be doing this, maybe blackmail? But that didn't make much sense; yeah he was in a gay bar, but he was still dancing with a hot chick!

Puck took a step back as his sobered up a little bit, and focused on his girl. She looked all woman, nice legs, short skirt, slender waist, great tits, Adam apple, and nice full lips… Wait a minute. His eyes focused back to her neck.

"Oh _shit_!" He said, taking a step back. "Were you always a man or that am I that drunk?"

Diana grinned, showing off full lips and slightly pointed canines, "I can be anything you want me to be, baby."

Puck's eyes widened. "I need to go now!" he squeaked, turning around and half-running off.

Kurt had stood up to follow Puck. "I think the guy needs some space," Thomas said, grabbing his hand. He nodded slowly and watched him walk outside; the boy obviously needed some fresh air and time to think.

There were a few people around him, mostly smoking. Puck wiped his face with his hands as the cool air hit him. He walked past the group and leaned against a naked piece of wall.

"What the hell am I doing?" he said out loud, rubbing his temples in an attempt to sober up.

"Trouble there?"

Puck eyes moved to a guy that he hadn't previously noticed. He looked like one of those stereotypical gays in the movies: thin, sleeveless mesh shirt; short spiky hair; thin build and a pointed face. Puck was _not_ in the mood to be flirted with.

"Yeah, trouble being that I shouldn't be here in the first place!"

The other guy nodded and took a deep inhale of his cigarette. "Still got a foot in the closet?"

Puck coughed. "No, dude, I'm straight… I'm here with a friend. It's sort of his trip and I got tricked into coming here, I swear," he said, pouring out more information than the stranger deserved.

He raised an excessively sculptured eyebrow and nodded. "Pity, you're too good looking to lose to those bitches."

Puck chuckled sadly. "I freaked out when I realized I was dancing with a dude… I can't do that contest." He gave a sad shake of his head.

The guy turned towards him and offered him a cigarette; Puck shook his head, but he insisted. "It will calm your nerves, just take it."

Puck sighed and took the slender cigarette. "I'm Paul," he said and waited for Puck to put it into his mouth.

Stepping close, he pressed the lit tip of his own cigarette against Puck's. "Suck it in," he instructed. Puck froze but sucked in on the cigarette, successfully lighting it.

Paul stepped back, "Yeah, you might as well withdraw now."

"Uh, what? Why?"

Paul grinned. "Because you freaked by me getting a foot closer, how are you gonna deal with a hundred gays wanting to grab you?"

"Shit! I could use that money, really."

Paul sighed, "You could probably win it too."

"How do you know that," he asked and turned towards him, still smoking the cigarette (it did help a little, although he hated the taste), "You haven't seen me dance!"

"No, but you're actually straight. As long as you could dance a little, you could win it. Although this is an amateur stripping contest, most of these men do this for a living. It's the same old stuff, sexy and confident and unashamed. On the other hand, you could take it by being yourself, well… Not that you want to hear any of this being that you're withdrawing, right?"

Puck thought about it for a moment. "Dude, I could really use that money. Any suggestions would be great."

Paul nodded. "Well… First of all, what is your theme?"

"Theme?" he said, "I was just gonna go out there and strip!"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Oh no, that won't do… Even _if_ you have the body of Hercules."

"I got my old football jacket in the car."

Paul's eyes lit up. "Oh, that would be perfect for the idea I got for you."

"Why are you doing this, man? I don't have to give you any sexual favors or anything in return, do I?" He asked nervously.

"Tempting, but no," Paul laughed, "I work here, and, well, I get bored with these stuck up bitches. It'll entertain me to see someone like you stick it in their face."

Puck nodded, accepting his explanation, "Well… I'll go get the keys from Kurt."

"Oh, by the way," he said, "What underwear do you have?"

Puck blushed. "Boxers, why?"

"What's underneath them?"

"My birthday suit… Why?" He said, blushing deeper. "I don't have to get naked do I?"

Paul held up his hand to shut him up before he really started freaking out. "No, but you got to strip down further than your boxers… Do you got a thong?"

"Hell no, I don't wear butt floss!" he growled, "I'm straight, remember?"

Paul rolled his eyes again, wondering if he was wasting his time, "Well do you got anything tighter, briefs maybe?"

Puck's eyes lit up. "I think I got something that will work… I'll go get the keys and meet you back out here?"

Paul looked at the other guys that were standing around, "Most of these guys are your competition… Get your stuff and we'll go inside and get you ready. We've got about an hour to work this shit out." He trailed off, looking at his nails in boredom.

Puck nodded. "Thanks for everything, dude! You're not too bad for a club rat!" Paul tilted his head and watched him run inside, sighing deeply and inhaling.

"What a pity," he said softly, "He'd make the best gay. I'd really go for that."

Puck came walking back in, forgetting that Kurt had filmed him dancing with a drag queen, until he approached his table.

"Hi," he said softly.

Kurt looked up and burst into laughter. Puck stood there and took it, feeling pretty damn stupid. "Are you done yet?" he said, keeping his anger in check; he did need the keys after all, and for that he needed Kurt.

Kurt held up his hand, gesturing to give him a minute and continued to laugh. Thomas even chuckled too, but Kurt was really going over the top with it, really giggling and shrieking.

"Okay, I just need the keys, Santorum Sipper," he growled.

Kurt stopped laughing and glared up at Puck, "No way!"

"I just need to get something out of the car," he said, offering an explanation. Even he was aware at this point that he was still slurring.

"I'm not letting you drive my baby, you'll wreck her."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I just need to get something!" he repeated, not in a mood to fight.

Kurt looked at Thomas and then at Puck, sighing and pulling out his keys. "If these aren't back in my hands in five minutes, then I'm sending this video to Ben Israel," he threatened, and Puck knew he was serious.

"I'll hide the body! No one will ever find you," Puck threatened in return as he backed away.

"Four minutes, forty-five seconds!" Kurt retorted. Puck's lip curled, but he ran out the door, deciding Kurt was more serious than he was.

He ran out to the SUV and went to the back. He grabbed a bag and emptied it, ignoring that the bag and things in it belong to Kurt as he shoved the things he needed into it. He finally headed back to where Paul was waiting. "Okay, ready."

Paul nodded. "There is a backstage area that we can use; do you know what song you're getting your freak on too?"

Puck shrugged; he hadn't thought of it. "'I'm Too Sexy?'"

"You are so totally hopeless," Paul groaned.

"Have you seen Puck?" Kurt asked, looking around. It was five minutes until midnight; the last he saw him was when he bought back his keys. He had noticed the bag but really didn't want to know what he was up to.

"Are you leaving?" Thomas asked.

Kurt looked up and sheepishly brought up his hand, offering him the view of the dreaded stamp, "I've got to."

Thomas looked at his hand, grasping it slowly, and then back up at Kurt and nodded as the younger boy got out his phone.

_Where r u?_

**Busy**

Kurt glared at the reply and huffed loudly.

_I have to leave with the other minors_.

**I won't b long.. 30 mins top**

Kurt was going to go all diva on him. "He's not ready!" he growled and shut his phone, "I should just leave him here to get his drunk-ass molested."

Thomas laughed. "Well, you and I could hang out for a bit longer," he suggested, wrapping his arm closer around him.

Kurt looked up and smiled, "Okay."

"Everyone is gonna be outside hanging around… There is this hallway right there," Thomas said, pointing across the dance floor. "It's a service entrance. It's quiet and nobody will see us." Kurt blushed and nodded. "Plus, I gotta be close by incase they need me."

Kurt nodded, pulling his phone out again, and allowed Thomas to lead the way.

_Text me when you're ready 2 go_

The hallway was much cooler than the dance floor and Kurt leaned against one wall while Thomas leaned against the other, their feet touching in the middle.

"I hope you had a good time tonight," Thomas said, catching Kurt's gaze.

"For the most part," he said, biting his lip, "it's been wonderful."

Thomas grinned, looking towards the door; the crowd was getting excited about the stripping contest, and everyone was clapping and whistling loudly.

Kurt chuckled. "Seems to be popular?"

Thomas nodded. "Yep. We only do it a few times a year and this one is the big one!"

Kurt looked out the tiny window, where the stage was too far to see anything but the lights; the music (although somewhat filtered by the big double doors) was quite loud. He could feel the bass pumping in his chest, or was that his heart from Thomas moving closer?

"You sure you want to be in here with me? It looks exciting out there."

Thomas smiled warmly and grasped his hand. "I'm positive. So, how long you been out if you don't mind me asking?"

Kurt didn't mind. "Not even a year. I just told my dad, but he said he knew since I was 3," he chuckled.

"Yeah parents usually catch on to these things, if they aren't in complete denial."

"When did you come out?"

"Publically about two years ago, I never really needed to tell my parents. They were a little too supportive and involved," he said, rolling his eyes. "My mom still tries to set me up with men."

Kurt smiled; he couldn't imagine his dad doing that. He really didn't want to.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his foot gently rubbing against his.

"Oh, my dad," he laughed. "He's not ready for that kind of guy talk." Thomas laughed along. It was so easy to talk to Thomas, and Kurt had even forgotten that hot oily men were stripping in the next room.

Thomas stood up from his leaning position and walked over to Kurt, his hand tracing down the side of his face. Kurt tilted his head to his touch and looked up at Thomas, blushing. He leaned forward; his lips were so painfully close to Kurt's. He held his breath, trying to memorize everything. He wanted to remember his first kiss (_Brittany so doesn't count_). Thomas smelt like a foreign spice, expensive and exotic with a bit of sweet sweat–

Noah smells manlier.

Kurt groaned inwardly: here he was, about to kiss the perfect boy of his dreams, and he was thinking of that jack off! He closed his eyes again, deciding he wasn't going to think of Puck another minute as he prepared for the mind blowing kiss he knew was coming…

But Thomas jerked back when the double doors opened. "Oh, sorry man!" an employee of the club said as he realized he was interrupting something.

Kurt blushed deeply and looked away from the two in embarrassment, trying instead to stare out the flapping double doors.

Loud music was once again filling the room, and the Host of the competition was talking excitedly over the music. "Up next is a newcomer," he said, with not so hidden innuendos, to cheers from the audience. Kurt leaned towards the door as Thomas and the employee (who had very poor timing) discussed something.

"Please welcome to the stage…" the host laughed when he read the name. "Mr. Guns!" The crowd whistled loudly.

Kurt had done a double take and his eyes widened, "No!" He tried looking out the window but the stage was on the far side of the bar and he couldn't see. "He wouldn't!" he said, pushing the doors open and bolting towards the stage.


	9. Golden Trophy

_**Author Notes Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas**_

_**Chapter 9; Golden Trophy**_

Puck came out on the stage and everyone in the crowd went wild. He modeled a bit with his letterman jacket and waved nervously, a twisted grin on his face even as the lights blinded him.

"Come here, big boy," the host cooed, and Puck walked up and smiled brighter. "So, Mr. Guns, want to tell us about your dance?"

Puck grinned for real this time, a predatory grin. "It's called _Bi-Curious_."

The crowd went wild and he nodded, hiding his nerves behind a small bit of confidence. "Can't wait," the host said, turning back to the crowd. "The song is a mixture of "Motorcycle as the Rush Comes" by Gabriel, and "Skin on Skin" by Queens of the Stone Age!"

Puck turned his back, showing off his letterman jacket and the big number twenty as the lights dimmed. A single spotlight was on him; the light started out red to really highlight the jacket, but it would change according to Paul. The music wasn't fast like the other dancers', but slower and better for things like grinding and making out, for example (that was just off the top of his head).

He began to move his hips slowly, and the crowd grew silent with heated anticipation. Puck never admitted this to anyone (and never would) but there had been a few months when he was fifteen when he wanted to be a Chippendale's dancer; that was until he learned that it was most of the dancers were homos, but he learned a lot of dance moves, most of them sexy.

And when you're as good at sex as he was, then it came easy and natural. He started slowly, peeling off his jacket while his hips continue to sway, and looked over his shoulder. Playing innocent wasn't easy (he didn't picture himself the tempting, teasing type like Kurt), so Paul and him decided that nervous was the best route.

The whole dance was designed to look like he was a straight guy being with another man for the first time, being "bi-curious," so he had to make it look like he didn't know what he was doing (easy enough). Paul assured him this would win the cash. He wasn't so sure, but it wasn't so bad now that he was up here. He liked the attention, even if it was from a room full of queers; having everyone's eyes on him and having everyone want him just by being himself.

Puck had sobered up enough to pull this off. He slid off his jacket and allowed it to slump to the ground. The jacket's leather made his skin even warmer; It was way too hot in here, and he was glad to take it off anyway. He turned and continued to groove to the music, slowly giving the audience his darkest and most piercing bedroom eyes. He didn't know if the silence was a good thing or not, but every eye was on him and he did like that.

He grabbed the front of his shirt, playing with the first button between his thumb and forefinger (Kurt was gonna kill him for ruining his good shirt but the show must go on right?). He gasped, and as if moved by some otherworldly command, he ripped it open and the buttons flew.

The audience cheered at the sight of his chest and abs, and he couldn't much blame them. He knew he looked good, but tried not to smirk in satisfaction–he was playing a character after all. He moved closer to the edge of the stage, taking off his belt, slowly teasing it away from his jeans.

Approaching the crowd, he bowed down onto his knees, grinding his hips, and he felt hands on his thigh. His first instinct was to push them away, but he knew this was expected of any dancer.

Backstage, the host had told them that they would be touched if they got close enough to the edge of the stage; most were respectful enough not to grab your junk, although they are some very drunk horny guys, so go near the edge at your own risk.

He looked down as he grinded his hips at the guy touching his thigh: the guy had bought him at least two drinks. He smiled down at him, the lecherous grin returning.

"Unbuckle my pants," he ordered.

The crowd cheered and the guy being somewhat shy, he reached slowly up. Puck grabbed his hand and clenched it roughly.

"With your teeth."

The newfound confidence and dominance inspired him, and the thrill of ordering someone to do something like that made him so pumped up and so turned on.

The roar was so loud he could barely hear the music. The guy's eyes widened and his face reddened, but he reached up with his teeth and slowly undid his pants, both the button and zipper. It was an impulse move, not at all planned, but he was an impulsive type of guy and it was kind of hot.

The guy's mouth was bringing so much heat against his groin, and he was super horny right now. He was surprised how little this whole scenario wasn't making him that uncomfortable. He knew that he would have to sort that shit out later but right now he was having fun and releasing some much-needed tension.

After his pants were successful unzipped, he rolled onto his stomach, flexing his guns into push-ups as his entire lower body grinded against the stage. The crowd pushed forward to see his exotic display. He winked at some of the guys as he rolled on his back. His hips went forward and his back bent over in fake orgasmic arches as he snaked out of his jeans.

The lights starting moving faster as the song change to "Skin on Skin." Puck began to move on the floor according to the music, giving them something faster this time. He got on his feet and showed off his Chippendales moves that he had learned, doing more stripper moves than interpretative dance shit.

The way Puck saw it, yeah, the sex he'd have would be slow and sensual at first, but once everything was comfortable, the speed would increase and love making would turn to sex and then sex to hardcore fucking. Puck danced in his boxers, swaying his hips and shaking his ass.

He lifted his hands over his head, making his muscles ripple; the spotlight moved to focus on his abs.

His hands then went for his boxers, and the crowd groaned in a way to tell him to speed it up; he happily obliged.

Puck had cut his boxers so when the time came, he could rip them off like the Hulk. The song was coming near the end and this was gonna guarantee his victory. He ripped them off in one fluid motion, revealing his jock strap beneath.

Kurt's breath hitched as he ripped off his boxers, the mixture of embarrassment and arousal was both confusing and welcoming. His cheeks were flushed. He didn't dare look at Thomas. After revealing the jock strap, Puck danced around a bit, teasing the crowd before the song ended. Everyone roared with approval as he collected his clothes and headed backstage.

Kurt couldn't physically move; what would motivate Puck to strip in front of a crowd of gay men? Not only strip but he allowed one of them to… with his pants… with their mouth… Did he hit his head on the glance floor? Was dreaming or had he slipped into some alternate reality when he wasn't looking? And if so, did he have to leave?

"We should go," Thomas choked. He looked at Kurt; his cheeks were flushed as well. Puck's dance was hot and it had even affected the otherwise cool exterior of Thomas.

Kurt nodded and took his hand as Thomas led him back to the hallway. Kurt walked uncomfortably: he was sure his pants weren't this tight when the night started, and it felt hotter instead of cooler in the moonlight.

They sat down as they watched the dancers come back on stage. The crowd was excited and loud; Kurt was glad they were sitting at the bar away from that. His eyes scanned the stage, looking for Puck.

It wasn't hard finding him; he was leaning against a smaller guy in a mess shirt, drunk off his ass, just in his blue jeans and his letterman jacket. Kurt frowned; he had obviously been drinking again since he got off the stage, and by the looks of him he was completely wasted.

Kurt groaned, how the hell was he going to get him back to the hotel? There wasn't a chance he could carry his dead weight, and the possibility of him getting sick in his baby was very high.

"Your friend… is…" Thomas said and looked for the right word.

"An idiot," Kurt answered for him, "He's impossible!"

Thomas nodded. "He sure can dance though."

Kurt blushed deeply, trying to get the image of Puck's jock strap and his bare ass out of his head. "I guess so," he replied weakly.

Kurt turned his attention back to the stage, as the host came back on. His glittering tux was an eyesore. "Everyone give it up for our dancers this year!" he shouted and everyone hooted and whistled as Kurt clapped unenthusiastically.

"You all know why we are here," the host said, pacing the stage. "Honor, respect, and not to mention a cool grand, but the real prize is this!" A guy in a tiny Speedo came walking on the stage and grinned at the cat calls.

Kurt nearly choked on his water when he saw what he was holding up: a large trophy with a wooden base and a dildo painted gold glued to it.

"Best in show trophy!" The host announced and everyone cheered louder.

"Is that a…" Kurt said, unable to finish his sentence.

Thomas nodded and chuckled. "It's kind of a tradition: the golden cock reward."

"This is how we do it, boys and girls, winner by applause. I'm gonna hold my hand over their heads and if you love them let me hear it. Loudest takes it all!" He walked to the edge of the line and held his hand over the first person.

Kurt clapped for each one to be polite, but he really couldn't tell who was winning. Some were louder than the rest, but in general it was just a lot of noise that made his ears hurt.

That was until he reached Puck.

Puck grinned when he reached him and put his hand over his head, and the crowd went nuts. Puck gestured for them to get louder and they did, the applause bouncing off the walls.

"I think your boy has it!" Thomas said, leaning back and propping up himself up with his elbows.

"Yeah, perfect, as if he wasn't cocky enough we got to add a golden cock to the mix! No idea how I'm gonna get him to the hotel," he said, shaking his head.

"I think we have a winner!" the host said. Puck stepped forward, off balance, and shoved his hands into the air with victory as he grabbed the trophy. "Look at my big cock!" he yelled out to the audience.

The crowd cheered as he held it up high. Kurt groaned in embarrassment, his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The host walked up to him with the mike "Congratulations… Now I heard this rumor backstage that you are actually straight?"

The crowd calmed down and looked at Puck expectantly. "Yep," he slurred.

The host laughed. "Well now that's just too bad… but we can't let you leave here without at least trying to convince to you to bat for the other team, now can we?" he purred.

The crowd cheered; Kurt's face dropped. "I think I need to get him off stage!" he said, standing up.

"Sure," Puck said, not really following.

"Okay… How about a kiss then… Do we have any volunteers?"

Kurt tried to push his way to the stage. While Puck might deserve it for being drunk, he didn't want him to blame him for not trying to stop it.

He froze when Puck had grabbed the little guy in the Speedo; the crowd cheered as he planted a sloppy kiss on the unexpected guy.

When Puck released him, he wiped his mouth and forced a smile. Kurt imagined a kiss with a drunk guy wasn't that pleasant, but then again it was Puck. He had heard the stories in the girl's bathroom about Puck's legendary and talented tongue.

Thomas had come up behind Kurt, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I'll help you get him to your hotel," he whispered and pulled him out of the crowd and towards the backstage area. "They'll have to come through here anyway."

"Thank you," Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "They won't do anything else to him will they?" he asked nervously.

Thomas chuckled again, "No, but we should get him out of here before anyone offers him a ride home."

Kurt couldn't agree more. A few minutes later the dancers came back in, and Puck stumbled down the stairs. "Hey, Kurt!" he yelled, "Look at my golden cock!"

Kurt blushed, "It's very nice, Puck, we're going back to the hotel now."

Puck pouted. "Why, I…" he said, smiling at someone that smacked his ass as they walked by. "Fun… having tons and tons…" he had lost his train of thought for a second, "Fun!"

Kurt nodded. "And we're gonna have fun back at the hotel now, too."

Puck grinned and leaned into Kurt, his breath smelling of stale alcohol. "I knew you wanted me," he hissed, wiggling his eyebrows.

Kurt's mouth opened, and he snapped back defensively, "Not even if you were the last boy on earth, Noah Puckerman!"

Thomas took Puck by the arm. "Come on, big guy. Let's get you back so you can sleep this off." Puck giggled and held onto his cock trophy, proudly stopping and allowing anyone to stroke it.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief when he got him into the car. "You're going to follow me, right?" he asked.

Thomas took his hand and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be right behind you the whole time."

Kurt nodded and got into his car. As he turned it on, he spied Puck lying in the back with the trophy lying on his chest.

"Throw up in here and I'll kill you!" Kurt warned.

Puck just chuckled. "You see my cock?"

Kurt blushed and glared at him through his rear view mirror. "I-It's very nice, and big," he said, wondering why Puck would ask him something like that.

"Did you see my trophy?" he grinned.

Kurt's eyes widened–he'd really walked into that one! "Shut up, Puckerman," he growled, ignoring him for the rest of the trip.

Puck started singing, if you could call that singing. He was pretty sure he recognized Britney Spears, but Puck seemed to have lost the ability to articulate.

Thomas got out of his car when they arrived and put one of Puck's arms over his shoulder as Kurt attempted to take the other side. Puck stumbled along between them.

"Trophy," he mumbled, his eyes closing, "don't leave me, trophy."

"Don't worry. I don't want anyone peering into my car and seeing that. I'll bring it in."

Puck didn't answer as Kurt struggled with the door key, all while trying to balance Puck's weight.

When they got in they dropped him on the bed nearest to the bathroom. He grumbled before rolling on his stomach and falling asleep with a loud snore.

"I think he'll be fine," Thomas chuckled and turned to Kurt, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

Kurt bit his lip. "I think we'll be back on the road tomorrow…" He didn't want to say goodbye, even if it was only until they got to Florida.

"He's not going anywhere," Thomas said. "He'll have one major hangover."

Kurt nodded. "Um… I guess we'll be around then?"

Thomas took his hand and clasped it in his own, "How about I take you out to lunch?"

Kurt smiled widely; it seemed real for the first time tonight. "That sounds so nice."

Thomas nodded and walked Kurt back out to his SUV. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said and leaned forward before kissing his cheek affectionately.

"Yeah tomorrow," he whispered and sighed as Thomas walked back to his car.

Kurt didn't react when he felt the dip in the bed later that night, and he only gave a quiet gasp when a warm body pressed against his backside.

However, when the hand slipped beneath the covers and begun to stroke his thighs, his brain forgot how to work completely.

Kurt was aware that this was a dream, but now as the hand started moving up and down sensually, he knew without a doubt. But in this case, the best dreams are when you are aware that you're dreaming; the lucidity is amazing when it comes to this sort of thing, as you could really enjoy it and act out the fantasy. As a teenage boy, sex dreams were not a foreign concept, although slightly embarrassing when you have a roommate and wake up pitching a tent or worse: with sticky sheets.

The fingers were rough and calloused and burned like fire as they moved across his skin. His legs squirmed as the heat rushed to his groin, aching in tension; he arched his back, encouraging the touching to continue, wordlessly begging and pleading to not stop, ever, as his back met with the source of the release.

Lips provided a vast contrast to fingers as they pressed against the back of his neck, soft and feathery and comforting at first before coming down on his skin with small nips of teeth. Then inquisitively, a tongue finds his flesh, making small circles around his back, making Kurt's hair stand up on end and his flesh aching with desire.

Hissing as he feels hot air in his ears and neck, Kurt gasped as strong hands grabbed his thighs tightly, leaving marks.

Kurt lets out a frustrated moan as his own hand lead the other boy's to his inner thigh, so close to his hardening manhood–then bypassing his groin, not daring to touch before reconnecting at his stomach.

"Noah," he pleaded and moaned and seized the hand, guiding him to the edge of his boxers. Kurt was more than a little disappointed when the hand slipped out of his and began to rub upwards, but his discontentment was forgotten when a cock rubs against his ass. Now Kurt was openly moaning, bringing his ass back to meet his hard cock in open reception, trying to get as close to his skin as he could.

The fingers flicked over his nipple, playing and teasing, as he panted heavily. "Noah…"

Kurt reached between his legs and stroked himself, the other body going slow to match his pace by sucking on his earlobe. Those warm hands descended and Kurt temporarily stopped stroking himself, hoping that Noah would take over. Oh my god, those hands, he needed those hands…

"Don't stop," Noah purred into his ear and then sucked it roughly. Kurt continued as he had commanded, until he felt his boxers being tugged down. "Yes, please…" Noah whispered. "There's only us. There's only this. Forget regret. Or life is yours to miss."

Kurt stopped all action. Did Noah just quote _Rent? _

"What did you say?" Of course Puck would only quote a Broadway musical in his dreams, but it was his dream, damn it, it didn't have to be realistic.

Puck pushed him on his back and their eyes connected for a fleeting moment of intensity. As he cupped Kurt's face, he licked his lips with a predatory smile that had Kurt mimicking him. With his lips slightly parted, he pressed them more forcefully into Kurt's.

That had been the action that he had waited for–his first kiss on the lips, one that had him seeing stars and clinging desperately to him to continue. As they parted for air, Puck mumbled something that Kurt didn't understand. "What did you say?" he whispered.

"I said do you got any lube?" Puck grunted as his kisses trailed down his neck into the ridge of his shoulder.

Kurt was slowly coming to his senses, coming out of his semi dream state, when Puck bit into his shoulder, hard, and then the pain started.

He wasn't dreaming. Or not anymore.

"_Son of a bitch!"_ he shouted and jumped out of bed, elbowing Puck in the face.

Puck hissed and covered his forehead where Kurt had nailed him. "What the hell, Hummel?" he growled.

Kurt pulled his boxers back up, pulling the blanket up to his chest to cover himself as best he could.

"What are you doing?" Kurt shrieked, his voice losing any shred of masculinity it had.

"What do think?" Kurt looked down and quickly looked away. He just had that damn jock strap on and had an obvious erection.

Kurt gasped when Puck suddenly grabbed his hand and jerked him down on the bed, wrapping his body up with his own, dragging it across.

"Get… off… me…" Kurt gasped when Puck shoved his hips forward against him.

"Shh," he said, leaning down to try kissing Kurt. Kurt moved his face and Puck end up kissing his cheek. It was sloppy and wet and he smelled of liquor and stale breath.

"You're drunk, get _off _me," Kurt demanded, pushing hard against his chest.

"I'm _horny_," Puck corrected him, "Now stop fighting me."

"You're not gay," Kurt said, trying to reason with him. He was starting to get heavy on him and Kurt wasn't enjoying this.

"It's not gay if you don't reach around," Puck laughed, and licked the side of Kurt's face, his tongue now like sandpaper.

"I'll scream rape!" Kurt hissed, "Get off me now!"

Puck leaned up, "I'm not going to rape you. I'm going to _convince_ you." As he tried to kiss Kurt again, he moved his face away, which only served to expose his neck. Puck, not being that picky, kissed his neck instead.

Kurt rolled his eyes and pushed against him._ Damn it, he's too heavy. _

The kissing suddenly stopped. "Puck?" Kurt said hesitantly and was met with a loud snore.

"I can't believe you," he growled and grunted, fighting off the urge to scream out in frustration and tension, as he pushed with all his might and managed to roll Puck off him. He glared down at his unconscious, mostly naked body and groaned as he grabbed a blanket and threw it over him, "Asshole."

Kurt, not knowing what to do with himself, sat on the bed and stared at Puck. He was trying to figure out what had happened and what his semi-sleeping mind had conjured. He touched his lips–he was pretty sure that the kiss was a part of his dreams, but it was difficult to know the difference and he had a feeling that he has still hadn't kissed a boy.

"Great."

He looked at the clock; it was four in the morning and he was exhausted. He lay back down and stared at the ceiling, hoping that he could fall back to sleep.

He rolled over, turning his back to Puck. He only managed to lie there for a few seconds before having to get up, unable even to be in the same room as him. Kurt grabbed his blankets and pillows off the bed and went into the bathroom, putting the blanket and pillows in the tub and turning to lock the door.

Once he felt safe, he lay in the tub, surrounded by blankets and pillows; It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but at least his ass was safe for the night.


	10. Hangovers and Picnics

_**Author Notes; I wanted to thank Niblett for beta this chapter for me. You're awesome. Sorry for this delayed chapter I have had a bit of writer's block I hope y'all still love the story. I also gonna be updating my other chapters b/c they have been beta by Niblett so I'll be doing that within the next week days, so I'm not updateing I'm merely updating old chapter. Anyhow, enjoy.**_

_**Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty  
Thrill me chill me fulfil me  
Creature of the night**_

Puck jerked up and grabbed his head. "Fucking hell!" he cried, grabbing his pillow to cover his head: his throbbing, aching head.

_**Then if anything grows while you pose  
I'll oil you up and rub you down  
And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction  
You need a friendly hand and I need action...**_

Puck glared from beneath his pillow at the little vibrating annoyance. "Kurt… Phone!" He closed his eyes. He felt horrible; last night was a blur. His head hurt too much to try to remember anything.

_**Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty  
Thrill me chill me fulfil me  
Creature of the night.**_

"Fucking donkey-biter and his fucking gay ass ring tone waking me up when I've got a fucking headache," he growled to himself, figuring if he dropped the F bomb enough it would make him feel better, although his booming voice only made it worse. He grabbed the phone without looking at the caller ID.

"What do you want?" He lowered his head between his knees, trying to will away the nausea.

"Noah, why the hell do you have my son's phone?"

Puck sat up a little too quickly and hissed as his head pounded; of course it had to be Kurt's Dad, that was just his luck. "Because it was ringing?" It felt like someone was hitting him with a hammer and he wasn't in the mood to deal with papa bear.

"Put Kurt on the phone, please"

Puck squinted; it was too bright in here. "I have no idea where Kurt is." He stood up, a little wobbly at first. Man he must have had one hell of a night last night.

"Well you better well find him soon, god help me if anything happened…" Puck let out a yelp when he saw the big golden cock trophy on the nightstand. He covered his mouth in surprise. _What the hell did he do!_?

"What's wrong?" Burt inquired quickly

"Nothing," Puck recovered. Unable to think of a better excuse, he lied, "Spider–big spider." He knew that his masculinity was now out the window.

He then heard water running in the bathroom, "Kurt is in the bathroom."

"Well give him the phone," Burt ordered.

"You want me to go into the bathroom with your naked son?"

Burt paused, "No… Just have him call me as soon as he's out… and dressed."

"Okay, sure thing," Puck hung up the phone and held his head. "Kurt!" Kurt opened the door and peeked out. "Why the hell is there a big gold cock on our night stand?" he asked calmly, "And more importantly, where has it been?"

Kurt almost laughed at how pathetic Puck looked: for one, he looked like hell. His hangover was kicking his butt and he looked genuinely petrified, but after last night Kurt wasn't going to give him any breaks. (Even if he didn't remember what he did.)

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Kurt closed the door and locked it. He looked in the mirror; he definitely wasn't at his finest and he was expecting Thomas in about an hour to pick him up for lunch. He had some major damage control.

_Damn his conscious. _Puck did look like hell. Maybe he should stay here with him and help him nurse his hangover. At least help him recover some of his memories, because he likely had a lot of questions: uncomfortable, awkward questions.

But first things first, his hair was a disaster. After finding his composure, he left the bathroom with his head held high and confidence restored.

Puck was sitting at the small breakfast table with the trophy in front of him. He had also found some pants to wear. Kurt was just glad he didn't have to have a serious conversation with him only wearing a jockstrap. He was staring at the trophy, scowling.

"I took my clothes off didn't I?" He asked softly.

Kurt sat on the bed clasping his hands together between his legs, "Yes." He wasn't going to feel sorry for him, "Do you remember anything?" _Like molesting me in my sleep?_

"A little," he replied "So I won, I take it?"

Kurt nodded, "Yeah, congratulations."

Puck covered his face and groaned softly. Kurt frowned deeply; he stood up and reached into the mini fridge and pulled out a six dollar bottle of water and then walked to his messenger bag and got out some Advil. He placed both in front of Noah, "Take these, drink all the water and get back into bed."

Puck followed his instructions with no resistance and, after taking the pills and downing the water, he lay down. Kurt closed the curtains tightly and turned off all the lights except for the one in the bathroom, just so that it wouldn't be completely dark.

Kurt sat on the other bed. "You'll need to eat."

"Not right now."

Kurt nodded, more to himself. "Thomas and I are going out for lunch, I'll order you something and bring it back," he said softly. Although he was still mad at Puck, he wasn't going to torture him when he was so pathetic. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"What do you remember?"

"Music," Puck mumbled, "And a lot of men… It's coming back slowly"

Kurt nodded. "I got your winnings. Thomas thought I should hold on to it considering your state."

"Winnings?"

"Yeah. Other than the honor of that trophy, you won a thousand dollars."

"No shit?" He laughed, instantly grabbing his head.

Kurt smiled, "No Shit. Get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours"

Puck didn't reply and Kurt didn't expect him to as he walked out of the small hotel room. Thomas wasn't due for a while but he needed to take a walk and think things over.

What had happened last night had given him a lot to think about, mostly the status of Puck's sexuality and what it meant for them and the rest of their trip. He sighed heavily; he serious needed his BFF right now. He took out his phone, knowing that she wouldn't answer because her parents had grounded all phones and computers while they were out. Apparently, they needed to disconnect with technology in order to connect with one another.

_Cedes I need 2 talk 2 u ASAP I think I'm in the twilight zone_

He texted her, even though he knew she wouldn't receive it for days.

He of course had other friends but he didn't feel comfortable talking about the situation with Puck. He looked at his phone and noticed that he had missed a couple of calls from his dad. "Crap," he muttered, dialing his home phone number.

Kurt had spotted Thomas immediately, running up to hug him as soon as he got out his car.

Thomas smiled, "You look nice." Kurt blushed; he knew he looked good and smiled at the compliment.

"How is your friend doing?"

"He is sleeping it off, but I'm sure that no lesson has been learned."

Thomas chuckled and put his hand beneath Kurt's chin, lifting his gaze, "Well then, let's not worry about him and just have a great time, okay?"

"Okay." Kurt put on his designer sunglasses giving the hotel door one last glimpse, "I couldn't agree more."

He walked to the opposite side and got into the car without any more persuasion.

"A park?" Kurt said as they pulled into a state park. Thomas gave a small nod; it wasn't what Kurt expected especially being that there were no restaurants in a park and it was… outside and dirty.

"I'm not going to kill you, you know" Thomas chuckled when he saw Kurt's nervous body posture: he was leaning closer to the door as if ready to bolt as soon as it became creepy.

"You don't like picnics?"

Kurt let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, "Picnic?"

Kurt had been on a picnic once with his mom although it was just in the back yard. She loved to do random things like that. It was fall but the weather was still nice and his father was watching a football game, so she was frustrated by his lack of attention and decided that they were going to have dinner in the backyard. She spread a blanket out and set up the plates there.

She told his dad if he wanted to eat he had to eat outside, away from the TV.

Kurt smiled at the memory. "I love them."

Thomas grinned, "Good… I picked this beautiful spot." He drove until they reached the top of the hill and stopped the car. "I'll get everything, if you want to go pick out a spot?"

Kurt walked back and looked in the trunk. He had a basket, blanket, drinks, and small radio. He would have to make at least two trips. "I can help."

Thomas took his hand and kissed it, "Nonsense"

Kurt smiled, shrugging, and headed up the hill. Puck wouldn't treat him like a girl even if he would call him one. He would probably give Kurt the heaviest items, Kurt chuckled thinking about it as he reached the top of the hill. It overlooked a beautiful lake.

"This is beautiful," Kurt said softly as Tommy came up behind him and laid down the large blanket and basket.

"I was a long distant runner in high school and the habit never died. I jog by here every day and thought you would appreciate the view."

Kurt nodded. It was beautiful; it looked like one of those paintings that hung in his doctor's waiting room. Thomas left to retrieve the rest of their picnic items. Kurt sat down on the blanket, being careful that not an inch of his clothes was on the grass.

Even though it had been a colder spring, it seemed that the sun had came out just for his date.

Thomas prepared everything as Kurt enjoyed the view, feeling somewhat useless. It was very romantic, but Kurt wasn't used to being taken care of.

"Got some sparkling cider," Thomas said and poured Kurt a glass, "To road trips?"

He held his glass up.

"Road trips," Kurt clanged his glass against Thomas' and sipped on the cider while Thomas set out their food and turned on the small radio.

Everything was perfect, the meal was homemade and delicious (not to mention low fat, Thomas is a bit of a health nut), the music was appropriate and Kurt had to bite his tongue to keep from singing along.

"Want to go for a walk?"

Kurt looked up from his drink and gave a small smile and a nod. Thomas held out his hand. Being polite, Kurt took it even though he didn't need the help.

Thomas took Kurt's hand as they walked the trail; apparently Thomas wasn't worried about anyone messing with their stuff as they walked away from their picnic site.

"I like you, Kurt," Thomas said as they stopped in front of the lake. Kurt smiled. He liked Thomas too; it was a pity that he didn't live closer.

Thomas turned to Kurt, stepping close. Kurt's eyes widened and he had to resist the urge to back away as his heart began to race. Thomas cupped Kurt's cheeks. His hand was so soft: it felt similar to Brittany's hand, although Brittany was a bit rougher and eager than Thomas.

Kurt could tell that Thomas was trying to make this perfect, which he appreciated, because who doesn't want their first kiss to be perfect.

Kurt had a list of kisses that didn't count: Brittany on the basis that she is a girl, and that fact that he was doing it under false pretenses made the kisses annulled.

Puck… He was fairly certain he was dreaming when Puck kissed him. Even though it was sexy and wonderful… No, he's not thinking of Puck kissing him when Thomas, who is gay and gorgeous, is leaning in to give him his real first kiss.

His lips are somewhat dry when they press against Kurt's. The kiss was hesitatant and tender; Kurt licked his lips to add moisture and gasped when he felt Thomas' tongue against his.

Thomas moaned softly and wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck to bring him closer.

He tilted his head slightly so they can deepen the kiss and Kurt allowed himself to relax. It sent a chill down his back even though his cheeks felt like they were overheating. Thomas tasted like their cider and something else Kurt can't place, but it's not unpleasant.

They broke the kiss for air and when the locked eyes, Kurt smiles. As far as first kisses go, it was a ten.

What felt like hour of just lying there, Puck felt well enough to get up and take a shower. He threw a shirt over the giant cock trophy; the one-eyed monster was staring at him, mocking him.

He remembered almost everything from the previous night with the exception of a few things, although he was sure Kurt would enlighten him when he returned… then again, maybe not. He'd seemed nervous when asking about his memory.

He would deal with it when Kurt got back. His mouth tasted like a gutter and the rest of him likely didn't smell any better.

He brushed his teeth as he took his shower, allowing the hot water to wash away his shame.

"Fucking glitter," he had to scrub to get it off, how the hell did he get so much glitter… He remembered he'd been rolling around the dance floor and the guy in front of him was like the spokesman for the glitter company or something. He'd sparkled more than Edward Cullen.

Puck groaned, realizing he'd just reference _Twilight_. It was his sister's fault, of course; he was just being a cool brother taking her friends and her to the midnight showing. Which wasn't a complete waste of time; he did meet that one girl. Despite being nuttier than Squirrel shit she gave amazing blow jobs.

He got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He was heading into the main living area when the door opened.

Kurt was holding a McDonald's bag, but he froze and diverted his eyes, even going as far as lifting a hand in front of them, "Why do I have to see you in so many states of undress!"

Puck looked down. "You're just lucky, I guess." He sat down on the bed.

"McDonalds?" He frowned.

"Thomas took me on a picnic so I couldn't bring any home… I had him stop," Kurt said, setting the bag down and grabbing his phone. "I'll be in the bathroom while you dress," Kurt said as he headed in there, already dialing someone's number.

Puck frowned, but pulled some pants on and sat down to eat. Kurt had left the door open slightly and his voice drifted.

"Tina, it's Kurt." he sighed heavily, "Okay… I kissed a boy"

Puck frowned and took out his sandwich trying to block out the noises.

"His name is Thomas, and he's perfect. He's older–nineteen–but he's so cute and romantic."

Puck glared at his food, shoving it in his mouth. He didn't know why he had this sudden knot in his gut. Maybe he was annoyed, but the feeling was too familiar to deny it was anything but jealousy. He been jealous over Finn long enough to be real familiar with the feeling.

He just didn't understand why he was jealous… It wasn't like he liked the homo or was mad that he'd kissed Thomas.

Or the fact that his hands were running down Kurt's smooth skin, and he was hearing him gasp…. Shit, how did he know what Kurt skin felt like?

Kurt was giggling on the phone; it annoyed the shit out of him.

"Got to go," Kurt said, making Puck sigh with relief, "I'll call you later."Puck could see his face through the small opening. Kurt had this little smile on as he hung up the phone.

It was a smile Puck knew wasn't meant for him to see; he could never get Kurt to smile like that for him. He turned away, feeling guilty for witnessing such a private moment.

Kurt came walking in and stripped off his jacket, carefully hanging it up. He took off his shirt as well, turning his back to Noah. He folded the shirt, looking for something more comfortable. He turned back to Noah once he was fully dressed again. The shirt was loose and hung off his shoulder.

"What the hell is that!" Puck yelled, startling Kurt.

Kurt looked around, lifting his feet in case there was something creepy and crawly around.

Puck stood up, tilting Kurt's neck and turning a bit pale, "Did we fuck?"

Kurt eyes widened and he slapped Puck's hand away. "No! Why would you think that!"

"That's a Puck special," Kurt grasped his neck, getting up and looking in the mirror. He did have a large love bite between his neck and shoulder. He remembered now… Puck had bitten him. "Puck special?"

"I like to bite girls there; leave my mark so other guys know they are getting my sloppy seconds. I mean I don't bite them if they are dating someone else… Oh god, that's what I can't remember." He said, falling on the bed and covering his face.

Kurt sighed heavily, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, "Noah."

Kurt waited for his mini freak out to stop. He was seriously pissed about being "marked" but Puck was beating himself up enough about this and going bat shit crazy on him wasn't going to help the situation.

"We didn't have sex."

Puck peeked from beneath his hand, "I guess so, you're not walking bowlegged."

Kurt blushed deeply, "You tried, though!" He slapped Puck arm hard.

Puck grabbed his arm, "What the hell Hummel!"

"You molested me in my sleep; you fully intended on having sex with me and you said some quite offensive things to me and then you passed out on top of me!"

"Oh, so that's why you're upset," Puck smirked, "'cause I didn't finish the job?"

Kurt's mouth opened, "I hate you." Kurt stood up. "I seriously hate you, why would I would I ever want to have sex with someone like you? You 're a homophobic, pea-brained, self-indulgent asshole!"

"Not to mention hot."

"Oh get over yourself!" Kurt spat, "You're mildly attractive with an ugly personality."

Puck rolled his eyes, "I'm a stud."

"Yeah and I plan to have a full STD test done when I get home from you touching me, whore."

Puck stood up, "Watch your mouth"

"Why, going to kiss me?" Kurt said, stepping close to Puck. "You're repressed homosexuality is showing, Noah."

Puck glared, "Bitch."

Kurt smirked, "Queer."

Puck was very close; his eyes were dark and dangerous and Kurt swallowed hard. He knew he had stepped over the line. Puck was going to kill him. He wasn't going to back down, though. He's not a victim… never again.

"You have called me gay twice in two days. Do it again and I'll break your nose."

Kurt glared but didn't test his threat, turning away instead, "I have to get ready. Thomas and I are going to a local fair tonight."

"Going for a walk," Puck ground out, turning away quickly and leaving the hotel room with no shoes or shirt. He pressed his back against the door as soon as he was out, exhaling loudly. He was so freaking hard right now, thank god Kurt didn't look down.

It was like freaking foreplay to him to fight like that and damn, Hummel had a mouth on him. He had threatened him because he was so damn close to throwing him on the bed and having his way with him.

Kurt had made it clear that he didn't like him, so Puck had to keep face.

Luckily he had put his cell phone in his pocket. He dialed Quinn's number when he'd gained some distance between him and the hotel. His erection was starting to go away and it was a struggle to walk normal, but it wasn't the first time he'd had a boner in an awkward place.

"Hello?"

Puck smiled at her sweet voice. He hadn't realize how much he missed her. "Hey, Q."

"Noah?" There was a pause as he heard a door close in the background, "Sorry, I needed to get away from your mom."

"You doing okay?"

"I'm fine. How about you– you're not in jail are you?"

Puck laughed, "No, not this time."

"I haven't had her or anything."

Noah nodded to himself, "I figured you would call me if that happen. I hope you will at least."

Quinn chuckled, "Of course… So… Do you need money or something"

Puck found a bench and sat down. "Why do I have to need something to call?"

"Oh, so you want to gossip or ask me about my day?"

"No… I mean yeah... No to the gossip that's a chick thing… but yeah, how's your day been?"

Quinn sighed. "Well your mom is a terror. I've been a bit lonely. I can't sleep without the sound of your stupid video games so I turned the damn thing on last night just to listen to it."

Puck smiled. "I miss you too, Quinn."

"So, tell me what's on your mind. I can tell there is something wrong."

"Okay… You can't tell anyone. I mean it, Q, I mean I'm so fucking confused and I trust you."

"Okay, this sounds serious. What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I've been having these feelings. I think I just need to get laid."

"I'm surprised you haven't already."

"Well… I almost did last night… Well, I almost forced myself on someone."

"Noah Puckerman!" She shouted, "Oh my god, you almost raped someone?"

"No! I mean no, he said I came on to him but passed out. I think I was trying to convince him or something. I'm not a rapist."

Quinn was silent.

"Q?"

"Him?"

Puck sighed, lowering his voice. "I-tried-to-have-sex-with-Kurt."

"Sweet Jesus."

"Don't let my mom hear you say that."

Quinn chuckled softly, "No kidding… Were you drunk?"

"Yeah, big time."

"Did you know it was Kurt? I mean, sometimes he is a bit girly…"

Puck nodded even though she couldn't see him. "Yeah," he whispered, "I don't know… I got jealous or something because he kissed a guy. You must think I'm disgusting?"

"No," she said softly, "Maybe a year ago I would have, but I've learned a lot about myself and the world this year. I couldn't hate you, Noah."

"I think I'm a queer."

"You're not… maybe bisexual. Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know… I love you" Puck said, rubbing his face with his hand; this was too much to comprehend, much less talk about.

"I love you too Noah, but we're not like that anymore."

"I know, Q."

"Okay, either you want to sleep with him or you're in love with him."

"How do I know?"

"Sleep with him," she said, "Isn't that what you always do when you want something?"

"Yeah, but this is different."

"How?" She asked quietly, "It's just sex. It may be slightly different being that he has a penis too, but it's still just sex. If you sleep with him, maybe you will lose interest."

"No. I don't want to do that. He's a virgin and, well, I don't want to do that to him."

"Why not?"

"I don't want someone else looking at me afterwards with regret in their eyes."

Quinn inhaled deeply, wiping away a tear, "Noah…"

"I'm sorry, Q."

"I think you're in love with him."

"I can't be," he whispered.

"Just talk to him, maybe he'll help you with it."

"That's gonna be a fun conversation, do you think he'll laugh in my face or just slap it?"

"You shouldn't just come out with it. Be nice to him. Don't call him names, or be a jerk," she said, "You can be charming when you want to be."

"I like it when we fight. It's hot."

"I didn't need to know that… Just try it, Noah. You're pushing him away being a jerk," Quinn smiled, "You got the looks but that can only get you halfway."

"He's going on a date with that homo from the bar… What if he's in love with him or something?"

"Then you have to win his heart. You're smart, even if you're impulsive and childish. You'll think of something."

"Gotcha."

"What are you going to do?"

"No idea," he sighed heavily, "But I'll think of something."

"Noah. Apologize, that's a good start."

"Okay… Thanks, Quinn."

"You're welcome."

"Q?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Noah."

_**Please review and let me know what you think. Next chapter is gonna be a fun one. :3**_


	11. Lotion

**_Author Notes; Wanted to thank Niblett and Graces of the Child. I'm sorry this took so long_**

Getting Kurt into the back seat of his car was a little more difficult than Thomas had thought it would be; however, once they began to kiss the more relaxed he had become–eager even. He was sitting on Thomas' lap, kissing him fiercely; moaning and pressing his body so tightly against his he could feel Kurt's heartbeat.

Kurt's kisses were inexperienced, but it didn't make them any less intoxicating. Thomas' hand slipped beneath Kurt's shirt, exploring his back; Kurt shivered beneath his touch. Thomas pulled Kurt's mouth to his, loving the little gasp as he pushed his tongue into the younger boy's mouth.

Thomas was eager to discover what sort of noises Kurt would make in bed and moved his kisses to Kurt's neck, biting and sucking beneath his ear. Thomas could already tell that Kurt was a needy bottom; it was okay. He knew how to take care of Kurt's needs. He would melt away that shyness and have him begging for it. He'd start by stripping his clothes off slowly, kissing each exposed piece of flesh, nipping the more sensitive areas, making him whimper beneath him. Once Kurt was needy, lips swollen and skin pink from love bites, he'd strip off his own clothes and pull Kurt up and push his cock against those pretty pink lips.

Thomas groaned and his hips bucked against Kurt's ass, causing Kurt to gasp. "So good," Thomas purred.

He could just imagine how tight he was going to be; preparing him would be such a turn on–watching him squirm as he pushed his fingers in and out. Kurt would be embarrassed at first, but then he would be fucking himself against Thomas' fingers begging for his cock.

Thomas groaned; his pants were too tight. "Let's get a room," he whispered, placing a hand against Kurt's erection.

Kurt's cheeks were flushed and his eyes widened. He moaned deeply as Thomas pushed against his erection, giving him friction that he needed, that they both needed.

Kurt pushed against Thomas chest.

"No," he said, rolling off of Thomas' lap and onto the seat beside them, "I can't."

Thomas turned towards him, cupping Kurt's face and kissing him slowly to ease away the butterflies. Kurt was obviously a virgin and nerves were to be an expected. "I'll take good care of you," he promised.

Thomas had seen it before: some naïve, isolated kid coming into their night club, wanting these experiences that their home town couldn't provide. He wanted to give Kurt that; wanted to give him a wonderful, not to mention safe, first experience. He gently pushed Kurt down, covering his body with his own and grinding slowly against him. Kurt's eyes widened further, a mixture of uncertainty and arousal.

Thomas sat up; smiles tended to get rid of any doubt that he had. He pulled off his belt, leaning down to kiss Kurt as he unbuckles his button and zips down his pants.

Kurt was breathing hard, not moving at all until Thomas reached into his pants and squeezed his cock. Kurt jumped, hitting the top of his head against Thomas' chin.

"Son of a bitch," he shouted, holding his chin as Kurt scrambled away, pushing himself back into his jeans.

"I can't. I'm so sorry!"

Thomas grabbed for Kurt's hand as he went for the door, "Kurt, I'm not going to force you!"

Kurt looked back, guilt building up, "I'm not ready."

Thomas frowned, letting go of Kurt's hand. "You're a cock tease," he sat back, rubbing his bruised chin. "Just go."

Kurt bit his lip. "Sorry," he muttered again, getting out of the car quickly and heading for the hotel.

It was midnight and Kurt hadn't returned. Puck wouldn't admit he was worried. Kurt had told him he would be late. He was going to a fair and, from Puck's experience, couples tended to stay out late.

He hadn't considered that maybe Kurt would be staying the night with Thomas. _He would call, wouldn't he? _And he chose to ignore the twinge of jealousy in his gut. Quinn might have thought he was in love with Kurt; he, however, was certain he was not.

For one, how can you love someone that annoys you endlessly? And they fought. Sure, it might lead to some great sex, but between trips to the bedroom, it would be unbearable and as much as it pains him to admit it, they couldn't have sex constantly.

Puck sat down groaning; all this thinking about sex had him a little tight in the southern region.

He sighed heavily. He had thrown out all self respect yesterday when he took off his clothes in front of those homos. He opened Kurt's bag and began to sniff each one. Not that it mattered: he was just going to use it to jack off.

He settled on a small white bottle that smelt like Kurt and Puck figured he must use this one often. He pulled off his shirt and glanced towards the door. It was locked, and although Kurt had a key he figured he'd see the headlights when they pull up, so he was confident that he could clean up the evidence if he got interrupted.

Puck unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down to avoid splatter, and slouched in the chair. He put lotion on his hand, closing his eyes to take in the scent.

He pictured Kurt in front of him, naked. He grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it until he was hard. It didn't take much considering the image he was thinking of. Using his thumb, index finger, and middle finger he stroked the length of his manhood.

He pictured Kurt's pouty lips swollen from kissing; he wondered if Kurt had ever given a blow job before. He swirled his fingers beneath the crown of his cock, moaning softly and panting to himself, "That's good baby."

He had just started and he was already close, not at all due to the fact that he was thinking of Kurt. It was just because he hadn't had sex in a long time.

He stroked faster while his free hand massaged his balls. He slowed down, squeezing the base to thwart any early release and prolonging the pleasure. "Oh, Kurt," he stutters, imagining Kurt kissing him down his neck, onto his shoulder and chest, sucking on his nipple ring.

Puck moaned and took his hand off his balls and tugged on his nipple ring just like he imagined Kurt would do with his teeth.

He trembled, picturing Kurt kissing downwards and then wrapping his perfect lips around his cock; Puck pumped faster on his cock and moaned loudly. Kurt would be bobbing his head up and down taking him deep and moaning like a cock slut. He could feel the turning in his stomach and this time, he didn't try to stop it.

Puck threw back his head, crying out. His seed spilled over his hand and stomach. He panted heavily, and he felt like shit.

Yeah, he felt good physically but he felt like shit thinking about Kurt that way. He knew Kurt better than that; that he wasn't some whore, some easy lay. He grabbed a towel to clean away his shame.

His eyes jerked up when he heard the door unlocking. "Shit," he pulled at his pants, wiping his hand and stomach quickly before throwing the towel behind him.

Kurt quickly entered the room, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it. Puck didn't know what to do.

Kurt covered his face with his hands, sighing heavily. He had come so close to letting Thomas do whatever he wanted. It felt so good and he wanted to be touched like that, but he wanted it to be more than casual sex. He wanted romance.

Except Kurt was sexually frustrated, and he thought maybe he should have gotten a hand job or blow job and returned the favor; maybe then he wouldn't be so frustrated and Thomas wouldn't think he was a cock tease.

He opened his eyes and turned towards Puck. He had the deer caught in the headlight looks: he was shirtless and his cheeks were flushed.

Kurt's brow wrinkled as he looked at him and then his eyes moved to the lotion on the table next to him. He looked back at Puck, and then his brain made the connection.

"You did not use my Lady Primrose to jerk off!"

"No," Puck lied.

Kurt walked over and slapped him, "This is sixty five dollar lotion!"

"You paid sixty five dollars for lotion?" His eyebrow rose. "That's crazy," he muttered, rubbing his chest where Kurt had smacked him.

Puck eyes trailed down past Kurt's stomach, noticing Kurt's pants button was undone. "What have you been doing?"

"Nothing!" he squeaked, turning around to make sure he was decent, "This doesn't change the fact that you were using my lotion to… do that!"

Puck chuckled, wanting to point out that he was thinking of him while jacking off, but he thought that would be counterproductive. Although he was jealous of what Kurt might have been doing with Thomas.

After all, it's not like he's a virgin.

"Why is all my stuff in bags?" Kurt said, refusing to turn around. The room smelt like sex and he was sexually frustrated he was doing everything in his will power not to pitch another tent.

"Because as of fourteen minutes ago it's Sunday and today is my day."

"What?"

Puck looked at Kurt's lips; they were a bit red and swollen. He had obviously been kissing, and more than that considering the state of his clothes.

"You said I can pick what we do today and tomorrow."

"I'm going to bed and we can do it when I wake up."

"You can sleep in the car," Puck said, standing up and putting on his shirt. "What I want to do is a good drive so we're gonna drive through the night… Well, I am. I slept most of the day so I'm ready to get out of this town."

Kurt frowned and looked at his bags. "I packed everything carefully. All your girl stuff is in that bag," he pointed, "minus the lotion." "You can keep it," Kurt said, curling his lip as Puck screwed the cap back on, "Pig."

Puck shrugged and put it in his bag, "I'll carry the bags. You want anything for the car ride?"

Kurt took one bag, "I'll change into something more comfortable." Kurt disappeared into the bathroom when Puck shrugged and grabbed a few bags heading out to put them into the Navigator.

By the time Kurt came out Puck had finished packing and had the car started and was already finding the tunes he wanted on the iPod.

Kurt put his bag into the back. When he got in, he glared at Puck as he buckled up.

"What are we going to do that we have to drive all night?"

"It's a surprise," Puck grinned.

Kurt rolled his eyes and laid his head on the cool glass, "I'm just ready to get out of this town."

"Why?" Puck asked as he backed out, "Thomas bad in the sack?"

"That is none of your business."

"Yeah… Who else are you going to talk to?"

Kurt turned and looked at Puck as he pulled out of the parking lot. If Mercedes had her phone he would wake her ass up. However, being that she didn't and he wasn't close enough to anyone else to be that rude unfortunately made Puck's point valid.

"We didn't have sex."

Puck glanced over, "Is that the problem then?"

"No," Kurt replied quickly; _why did it seem that they always talked about sex? _

"Did he try something?" He glared over at Kurt, "Do I need to go back and kick his ass?"

Kurt laughed. "I don't need you to protect me… and no, I stopped him when it got too serious." He blushed, and then frowned, "He called me a cock tease."

Puck laughed, "I bet you are."

"Don't say that," Kurt looked down at his hands, "I didn't mean for it to go as far but it felt good."

"It's easy to get lost in the moment," Puck shrugged, "For guys at least. I mean, it feels so good and as soon as you cum… Bam: regret, self loathing…"

"I wouldn't know," Kurt said, "I mean I regret… not doing other things."

"Like what?" Puck asked curiously, looking over at Kurt.

Kurt sighed, "Well it was hot and heavy… I'm sure you don't want to hear about this."

Puck shrugged. "If it helps you then I don't mind."

Kurt looked into Puck's eyes and saw that he was being honest, "Well, just because I don't want casual sex doesn't mean I'm against other casual things. I just freaked out and ran off."

"God blue balls, huh?" He laughed and Kurt looked away, obviously embarrassed. "You want to get into the back seat? I've got lotion."

"Pig."

"It's natural. This is your problem." He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove, "You're uptight. Maybe if you loosen up a world of opportunity will open up to you." Puck wiggled his eyebrows to emphasize his point. Kurt rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window.

"If loosening up means opening my legs, no, thank you… Anyhow, I'm sure I ruined any chance of us meeting up again."

'Good… He was a douche."

Kurt laughed gently, and then picked up the iPod to shuffle through it, "Do you not have any good songs on your iPod?"

"Wakey, wakey. Eggs and turkey bacon," Puck said, shaking Kurt by the shoulder. It pained him to do it; Kurt was kind of cute when he was asleep. Less bitchy, too.

Blearily, Kurt opened his eyes, "Where are we?"

"Hotel." Puck answered, "It's about six in the morning. I'm going to get some sleep for a bit."

Kurt rubbed his eyes and popped his neck, muttering, "I hate sleeping in the car."

"Do you need any bags tonight?"

Kurt shook his head, climbing out of the car. Puck jumped out as Kurt began to walk away and grabbed his elbow guiding him in the right direction, chuckling at Kurt's zombie-like state and opening the door for him.

Kurt rubbed his eyes "What?" He mumbled

Puck looked up. "Sorry. This was all they had." He put his night bag on the single bed.

"Then you are sleeping on the floor," Kurt said immediately, pushing Puck's bag off and sitting down on the bed. He crossed his arms and his bitch face was severe.

"Whatever," Puck grabbed a pillow and an extra blanket. He spread out the blanket and laid down, turning his back to Kurt.

Kurt sighed and laid down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and feeling a bit guilty now that Puck didn't put up a fight.

He laid there for several minutes, "You won't molest me, will you?"

"What?" Puck sat up and turned towards Kurt.

"If I let you share a bed, will you molest me?"

"Do you want me too?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Fine, sleep on the floor."

"No," Puck said in a hurry, "No, I won't. Promise."

Kurt nodded and rolled over. Puck jumped up, grabbing his pillow climbing into bed beside Kurt. "Want to cuddle?"

"Touch me and I'll castrate you."

Puck chuckled and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling; he started to hum softly. It was always difficult to fall asleep right after driving for a long time.

"You can have my isolation… you can have the hate that it brings," he sang softly, "You can have my absence of faith… you can have my everything."

"What are you doing?"

"Singing."

"I'm trying to sleep," Kurt muttered, "and that song is disgusting." Kurt rolled back over just to feel Puck roll over too.

"Through every forest… above the trees," he said softly, his breath warm against Kurt's neck, "Within my stomach… scraped off my knees. I drink the honey inside your hive. You are the reason I stay alive,"

Kurt turned around, "Will you shut–" He gasped; they were so close. Puck eyes widened too. He hadn't expected Kurt to turn so quickly.

"Sorry," Puck whispered.

Kurt looked down at Puck's lips, remembering how they'd tasted in his dream and licked his own lips. He wondered what they tasted like in real life. "Good night, Puck."

Puck nodded and rolled over, "Good night… Kurt," He felt Kurt roll over. Both of them were trying their best not to touch the other.

Kurt woke a bit cold and rolled over, seeking body warmth and moaned when he found none. He opened his eyes and noticed he was the only one in the bed. He sat up, looking around. Instinctively his hand went for his hair and began to straighten it. Puck was standing, fully dressed, with Kurt's suitcase in front of him. He was going through it.

"What are you doing?"

Puck chuckled and held up a pair of red and white cheerleader skirt. "Care to explain?

Kurt jumped up, grabbing it out of Puck's hand and hid it behind his back as if out of sight it would be out of Puck's mind. A boy could hope.

"I thought you didn't want a sex change."

Kurt eyes widened, "Of course I don't!"

Puck chuckled. "Why do you have them then? Let me guess… you slept with Brittany and she accidently packed them."

"I did not sleep with Brittany… You know, if you boys treated her with a little more respect maybe she would have respect for her own body."

"Whoa, whoa! I was joking… but I am curious as to why you have them."

"Why are you going through my stuff? That should be the first question answered." Kurt crossed his arms, gripping the skirt tightly.

"I was trying to find you something to wear."

"No," Kurt said firmly, "That wasn't part of the plan. You pick what we do. No way am I letting you dress me."

Puck rolled his eyes, "You need a certain type of clothing. Relax."

Kurt unfolded his hand and looked at the skirt, "There's this Drag race."

"What do cars have to do with cheerleading skirts?"

"Not that type of Drag race, Puck. It's an Annual Event in Key West where Drag Queens race around obstacles in the street. It's supposed to be fun."

Puck grinned. "So you're going to dress up like a Drag Queen?"

Kurt nodded. "I may never get to go back and I wanted to have fun. I have no interest as dressing as a woman normally," he pointed out, "Stupid, huh?"

Puck shook his head. "No, it sounds like fun. It's gonna be funny watching you do it."

Kurt smiled and walked over to put the skirt back into his bag, "So what type of clothing do I need?"

"Camo."

"I don't do 'camo'."

"Today you are," Puck said and turned towards Kurt, "I've got some stuff to do, but there is a store right down the road that sells hunting supplies, do you think you can pick something up for yourself?"

"Can you at least tell me what occasion I am dressing for?"

"Meet me at the diner," he said, shaking his head. Walking to the window, he pointed across the street, "At two."

"So I need camo clothing. Anything else?"

"We're gonna be outside, so good walking shoes."

Kurt nodded, knowing this day was going to suck; he could tell already, but Kurt was used to the feeling of being out of place, especially around good ol' boys. Not to the point that he wasn't wary – he was in the south, after all – but he wasn't afraid when he opened the door, the bell signaling his arrival, and three men looked up at him.

The man behind the counter gave him a nod; Kurt was expecting him to ask if he was lost but he just turned back to his friends and continued the fishing story that Kurt's entrance had interrupted. Kurt walked back to the clothing and frowned deeply.

He loved shopping, but this was torture. Each outfit was worse than the last._ Puck actually expected him to wear this?_

Kurt walked up to the cash register. "Excuse me," he said, moving his slender body between the Paul Bunyan look-a-likes, "Is this all the clothing you have?"

The man ran his fingers through his bread "What are ya needing?"

Kurt sighed heavily. "I have no idea, my travel partner is a sadist and has something planned which requires me to wear camouflage"

The man gave Kurt a look up and down, gesturing with his head towards the other end of the store, "Maybe you should shop in the ladies section."

There was no mockery in his voice.

Kurt smiled, "Thank you."

The small diner across the Motel 8 hotel was the meeting place for Paintball-XS for the past five years. Whenever they get a large party they would meet for lunch and go over the plan and rules before heading out into the woods.

A man stood up wearing a Paintball-XS tee shirt that was neatly tucked in, definitely former military. "Is everyone here?"

"My friend isn't," Puck said, raising his hand. It would just be like Kurt to decide to go back to the hotel and screw their deal.

"Well, we are on a time schedule so you will have to go over the rules with him when he arrives." Puck nodded quickly."We have two teams: the red team and blue team. Your objective is to capture the flag. Some of your teams will be offense, the other will be defense," he explained, "You will decide this once we separate you to your designated home bases."

Puck looked out the window, hoping Kurt wasn't having any trouble.

"You must wear your protective chest and eye gear at all times," he said loudly to get his point across, "If you get shot, you are dead. If you get shot in the arm or foot you must fall back to your home base before heading back, if you are hit with a kill shot then you are dead and out of the game. Do I need to explain kill shots?"

Puck yawned and sipped on his coffee; he didn't sleep much last night. Kurt was a cuddler, but Puck was sure that Kurt wasn't aware of it or he would be mortified, but as soon as he'd fallen asleep his legs had ended up on top of Puck. If Puck had tried to remove them then his ass would be tightly against him, so Puck had given up and gotten up. He didn't want Kurt to wake up with something poking him in the back.

"Alright, if you are ready, we will be caravanning to ground zero," he said, "Let's go people."

Puck stood up and stretched as he went outside and stood next to the Navigator. He had no problem leaving Kurt, this was too much fun to miss and this really nice chick had even gave him war paint. He looked totally awesome.

"Where's your boy?" The leader of team red asked. He was an older gentleman that was balding a little.

Puck shrugged. "Not sure. He's bit of a drama queen. I wouldn't be surprised if he just didn't go… Oh my god."

Kurt was walking the crosswalk like he was on a catwalk, his designer glasses perched on his nose and a pink bandana over his forehead. A tight blue tee shirt with a jewel crested star in the, pink Camo pants with knee high boots.

The red leader handed Puck his paintball gun. Kurt stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it. "Oh, god. You're gonna kill me, aren't you, it's finally happening."

"Did you know that Sundays are shoot a homo day down here boy?" The red leader said with a serious face.

Kurt swallowed hard and then everyone began to laugh. The red leader slapped Kurt on the shoulders, handing him a gun, "At least you'll be easy to spot."

"Pa... Paintball?"

Puck grinned and took Kurt's gun. "You're on the blue team. I actually want to win."

A young, heavy set woman with bright red hair tied into pig tails put her arm over Kurt's shoulder, "We are happy to have him." She handed him another gun and dragged him towards the other group.

"I hate you, Puck!" Kurt cried over his shoulder.

**_Please review I love them_**


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